spotted off northwest hwy

oh, wintery spring

i'm gonna go fishing

I'm gonna go fishing, that's what I'll do,

think about nothing, not even you.

Catch a real big one, a big speckled trout,

snapping in the water, I'll pull him on out. 

A recent conversation with a dear, old friend brought this song to mind. 

We stay in touch, usually by email but occasionally by delivered mail; tangible surprises sent to each other.  Envelopes I receive might be addressed to me, with 'writer' scrawled following a comma after my name.  I just love that. 

I love this guy too.  His name is Pat.  He lives on a lake not so far from where we grew up together during those crucial, formative years.  He's someone, as the saying goes, I know I could call on anytime, no matter what. 

In our recent exchange, my friend was casually contemplating what to do this weekend; golf or fish.  He loves golf but the bass in the lake, he said, "are starting to come off the bottom and move around looking for food and a nest site". 

Here in the water, look at him shine.

There goes a big one, that one is mine.

Cast off the reel now, I've got the feel now,

snap goes my fly rod, I've got me a trout! 

This song, I'm Gonna Go Fishin' is of course, not really about fishing. 

We've all had our heart broken.  Pat broke mine once and I broke his a few years later.  We grew up, so many years passing so quickly, and here we are, still sweet friends for over four decades now.  That's as brag worthy as the big bass Pat may have caught this weekend.

I'm Gonna Gonna Go Fishin'

Woke up this morning wanting to cry

then I remember, yes I knew why.

He's a real good one for having his cake,

I'm gonna go fishing or jump in the lake.

I'm going fishing, that's what I'll do,

think about nothing, not even you.

Catch a real big one, a big speckled trout,

snapping in the water, I'll pull him on out.

Sweet talking liar, spin me a yarn,

tell me a story, big as a barn.

Gonna stop listening, I won't hear you out,

I'm gonna go fishing and catch me a trout.

If a man is a liar, a man is a fool,

playing for keepers and breaking the rules.

He'll be the loser, yes he'll find out,

I'm gonna go fishing and catch me a trout.

Here in the water, look at him shine.

There goes a big one, that one is mine.

Cast off the reel now, I've got the feel now,

snap goes my fly rod, I've got me a trout!

Sweet talking liar, you're in for a fall.

You tell me a story, you talk to the wall.

Gonna go my way, on down the highway

I'm gonna go fishing and catch me a trout.

 I'm gonna go fishing and catch me a trout.

 I'm gonna go fishing and catch me a trout.

I'm gonna go fishing and catch me a trout.

Jeanie Bryson, Lyrics on Some Cats Know

I'm Gonna Go Fishin' written by Duke Ellington and Peggy Lee

pussy willow

Joe would bring them to Ellie. 
Now I bring them to their son. 

dried, no water necessary

where's the jam?

botti for his birthday

If a picture is worth a thousand words, this post will be a long one. 

Why is it that two thousand camera phones were allowed into the Chris Botti concert Thursday night, but a single 35mm Nikon was not?  Someone explain the reasoning to me, please. 

The first photo I'd have shared would be of Chris Botti himself, keeping it real: walk to center stage and play the trumpet.  Sublime notes, those first few that take your breath away, can't unfortunately, be captured even if allowed. 

The second picture might have been a close-up from the video screen showing you the very handsome face of this man giving the crowd such beautiful music. 

Botti had a little help.  I'd have shown you Childs on piano, Kilson on drums, McBride on bass and the Rio de Janeiro guitarist who was equally as amazing as the rest.  There was a bass guitarist I shamefully can't name either, who played on some numbers. 

Botti had a guest violinist; they first played Emmanuel.  I was hoping!  I was thrilled!  Lisa Fischer wooed the crowd with her vocals on a few songs.  We heard Italia, The Look of Love, the awesome Miles Davis'-Bill Evans' Flamenco Sketches and so many more. 

I'd love to be able to show you a silhouette of Botti in his classic black attire.  He has an obvious ease onstage and the way, while standing straight, he gracefully arches back on certain notes... well, I just swoon.  You'd also have seen photos of him performing down in the theater aisle and shaking hands with his fans as if he thinks himself just an average guy who can blow a horn. 

As it seems he's done at other venues, Botti invited a couple of very young, aspiring musicians up on the stage to participate in Nessun Dorma, the song which made the evening for me. 

There was not a thing funny about the last of them though; the slow, heart wrenching, My Funny Valentine. 

I wanted to show you all of this!  Instead, all I have to offer is this tailgating shot.  

Denied even it, for in the time it took to reach for the camera, the beautiful sunset had played its final encore.

I never found the right moment to tell the guy sitting beside me that I
was with him if he opted to violently kick the chair of the two girls in front
of him who were yapping through it all.  Section 202, Row FF, Seats 3 and 4. 

oh so pretty