tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5923209448548199952024-03-13T08:38:28.433-07:00C.A. McGroartyc a mcgroartyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01873309047931117576noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592320944854819995.post-81338825286160770182019-02-09T07:03:00.001-08:002019-02-09T07:03:48.893-08:00<div class="title" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: &quot; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 17.6px; margin-bottom: 8px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author_blog_posts/17938387-fantastik---5-signed-copies-ends-tomorrow" style="color: #00635d; text-decoration: none;">Fantastik - 5 Signed Copies, Ends Tomorrow</a>
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I will also be <b style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;">including a signed (8.5 x 11) poster cover of Fantastik along with a bookmark for all winners. Giveaway ends tomorrow 2/10</b><br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" /><br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" /><i style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;">Charlie stood in the entrance to the back room. Jake sat in the same seat he’d been in that past Sunday. He was stoic as always...he had a whiskey in front of him.<br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" /><br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" />“Thanks for calling,” Charlie said.<br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" /><br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" />“He was a Caspian,” Jake replied. Staring into his shot glass he continued, “A rare breed, arguably the oldest breed of horses that still exists, but that’s not what made him special. That horse had heart. That horse had feelings…no different than yours or mine. He was shot dead by some crackers out joy riding from town. He was shot because he was owned by niggers. That horse was the only true friend I ever had. I buried ’im myself, and from that day on I stopped feeling. I put ’im on my shoulder when I came back from ’Nam.”<br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" /><br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" />“What was his name?” Charlie whispered.<br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" /><br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" />Jake looked up from his shot glass, his eyes went wide and his expression softened. “Thunder,” Jake replied. “He was born wild on a dirt road called Thunder.” <br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" /><br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" />Jake motioned to an empty chair across the table from him. “Have a seat.”</i><br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" /><br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" /><b style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;">Praise for Fantastik</b><br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" />"Extraordinary story...will think of it for a long time and recommend it to others for its amazing plot, extraordinary characters, and insight into two troubled souls."<br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" /> —Writers Digest Judge, 2014<br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" /><br style="font-size: 13.33px; line-height: 17.32px; margin-bottom: 0px;" /><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22400180.Fantastik" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d; text-decoration: underline;" title="Fantastik by C.A. McGroarty">
<img alt="Fantastik by C.A. McGroarty" class="gr-hostedUserImg" src="https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1402020311s/22400180.jpg" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 99, 93); border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-image-outset: 0; border-image-repeat: stretch; border-image-slice: 100%; border-image-source: none; border-image-width: 1; border-left-color: rgb(0, 99, 93); border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: rgb(0, 99, 93); border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-color: rgb(0, 99, 93); border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; float: left; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0px; max-width: 613px;" /></a></div>
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https://www.amazon.com/C.-A.-McGroarty/e/B00KS74TLQ/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1</div>
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c a mcgroartyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01873309047931117576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592320944854819995.post-70233434383177959462017-09-26T04:14:00.002-07:002017-09-26T04:14:54.807-07:00Thanks to Pat Rullo for a great interview Friday on her Podcast, Speak Up Talk Radio. I enjoyed our inspirational chat--Keep Hope alive!<br />
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http://www.speakuptalkradio.com/c-a-mcgroarty-speaks-up/<br />
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<br />c a mcgroartyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01873309047931117576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592320944854819995.post-87432491129057315972016-04-02T08:46:00.001-07:002016-04-24T20:16:13.056-07:00the Music & Inspiration Blog: Breaking the Silence...the sound of<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I am awakened in the middle of the night by a piano playing in my home, it’s distant. It’s the same four notes over and over—D A F A, D A F A…D A F A, D A F A—these notes call to me as if we know each other, their ghostly echo stirring an old memory I had long forgotten.</span> </div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">I awkwardly fall out of bed, careful not to wake my wife lying next to me, or my boys in the room next door. My body drifts forward and backward, my arms scrape the walls at my side. I make it to my basement door and open it…pitch black—D A F A, D A F A—I know this song. The notes seem louder now.</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc82fFqhAZUl4me8u2oNTvYGOYJlKcWeffcuCpI1Bda0TH21qW_mTwKENR5y1_Sb4kN7W8VKDwx747An9goz4KerKjekToV2rIORY-047jc7R6g4cVxXVLMfTmhz45xDZfjHvAMewmyGU/s1600/AC8EAF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc82fFqhAZUl4me8u2oNTvYGOYJlKcWeffcuCpI1Bda0TH21qW_mTwKENR5y1_Sb4kN7W8VKDwx747An9goz4KerKjekToV2rIORY-047jc7R6g4cVxXVLMfTmhz45xDZfjHvAMewmyGU/s320/AC8EAF.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Owned by Simon & Garfunkel when I first was introduced to it twenty some years ago, and sang by a band named Disturbed when I last heard it (most recently), I’m very aware that a third grade choir could be humming it, its melody would nevertheless strike me still. But on this night there are no words, only a solemn piano. Knowing there’s no such instrument down those steps I wonder if I’m dreaming, then again—D A F A—no, not tonight.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><b></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hello Darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>I take the steps one at a time knowing where this is going—we have a relationship.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Because a vision softly creeping, Left its seeds while I was sleeping.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>It lives in my subconscious, unknowingly it took a piece of me years earlier…time has reaped its harvest.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains, within the sound of silence.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Nameless, it owns me—the brightest of moments unable to outshine its grip.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In restless dreams I walked alone, narrow streets of cobblestone</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Pretending to know the way, I navigate the most difficult of terrain</span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">‘</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Neath the halo of a street lamp, I turned my collar to the cold and damp</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>And guided by an ever faint light I blindly march on</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light that split the night…And touched the sound of silence</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Then something fantastic happens…a great fall shakes loose the darkness in my mind—the misery is exposed</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And in the naked light I saw, ten thousand people maybe more</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>The light before me is the realization of my own despair—deep within it I begin to see humanity and am reminded of all that I’ve chosen to forget</b></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">People talking without speaking, People hearing without listening, People writing songs that voices never share</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>The importance of people in our lives, family—friends—strangers, the strength of the human spirit and the power of human touch.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">On December 4</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 8.8px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: super;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">th</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">, 2015 I took a very bad fall. I had bruising and blood on my brain and had ten staples in the back of my head—it took me a little over eight weeks to fully recover and when I did I realized...I had awoken! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">In the days and weeks after my fall it quickly became apparent to me that I was living in a rather dark place for quite some time and wasn’t even aware of it. I had much to be happy for and thankful for in my life, but literally never recognized either. I was going through the motions with little interest in the person standing to my right or left. I have never been a selfish person, my whole life, however just because I wasn’t selfish didn’t make me righteous. I very much lost sight of the importance of people in our lives, most notably strangers or the person(s) we are all to meet tomorrow! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Whether they be in the coffee line at Starbucks or the commuter sitting across from us on the train, we are all better served to remember the value of human touch. Even if it is just for a few moments a day…Greet someone, engage in conversation, be courteous; be positive…SMILE! And in doing so you will be replacing a little darkness with a little light in your own life and the lives of the people you meet. And should it be that you don’t find the response you were hoping for or expecting, than I encourage you to do it again the next day, and again the following day, and again, and again, for this is not a selfish act, but rather an act of human kindness that deserves no reciprocation. Be an inspiration...Reach out and Touch Someone Today!</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span><br />
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />c a mcgroartyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01873309047931117576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592320944854819995.post-36454294062433270902015-01-04T07:52:00.001-08:002015-01-11T06:16:56.896-08:00Thank God I'm a Country Boy<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Is there anything better than streaming music?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many years ago, I read a quote from Steve
Jobs, “people want to own their own music, not rent it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a quote that stuck with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the time I heard it I was still buying
from iTunes, which in of itself was arguably still archaic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I say that because I knew many people who had
been downloading free music for a decade already, though I never did so myself
(as someone who hoped people would find value in my words, downloading music
that was ultimately pirated in my mind was wrong).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But when I look back on Steve Jobs quote today I wonder if
there wasn’t some truth to his statement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are a handful of identifiers that exist in our lives that say a
little something about who we are, like the kind of car we drive, the shoes we
may wear (BTW I could do a whole blog on shoes—I was once a huge shoe guy, but
no longer see the importance considering my flip I may be an expert in this
field, probably the only one, last tidbit here fellas, women <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">always</i> look at men’s shoes!) and last
our music collections! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The music you
owned said a little about who you were and in some small, but perhaps strange
way, you were proud of it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Who doesn’t remember the CD tower?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think I was gifted a half of dozen in a six
year period.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some swiveled, some were
small or curved like a snake and were obnoxiously large, acting like a small
skyscraper in your six hundred square foot apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a piece of useless furniture for that
matter—a conversation starter at a party or in your dorm room as friends
perused it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What has streaming music done for those who subscribe to
it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well for me it has opened up a
world of musical acts that I never knew existed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Add <a href="http://www.bandofhorses.com/home/">Band of Horses</a> as a new station on your
Pandora and get introduced to <a href="http://damienjurado.com/">Damien Jurado</a>, an indie folk/rock solo act from
Seattle, Washington.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It could be argued
that even just five years ago I never would have found Damien Jurado unless I
happened to stumble into a basement bar in Seattle which doubled as an
underground music scene.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And while that
level of accessibility that streaming music has provided is a wonderful thing
for both the listener and the artist it inherently provides for some sort of
detachment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t discover Damion Jurado,
but rather Jurado found me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before, there
was something “claim staking” about tripping over a band (ten years ago) that
none of your friends knew about, and if that band makes it big (radio time),
you were music genius.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An example that
comes to mind for me is 1994 in Cancun, Mexico, a buddy of mine Brendan Toner,
introduces me to The Dave Matthews Band—enough said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brendan owned that one. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>DMB had been recording music for three years
already <a href="http://davematthewsband.com/band/history">(1991 debut)</a> but in relative mainstream obscurity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
might be asking, who cares?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What’s so
important about <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">how</i> you find a particular
band or even genre?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And to that end I
think you’re correct, but streaming music is just one more way in which
technology has changed who we are and how we do things. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Back in the day, going to the record store was
an event you thought about all week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
would read about that upcoming release in Rolling Stone or hear about it on the
radio and save up your money all week or month to buy that CD (or vinyl for
those of you forty-five and older), and you couldn’t wait to get home and play
it (fumbling with the ceramic packaging that took forever to get a grip
on).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There is something to be said for the loss of excitement in
our lives as technology continues to burgeon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For kids today I guess it’s the anticipation of that new x-box game
they are waiting on. It may be the excitement their feeling in the car on the
way to Target or waiting by the front door for the mailman to deliver that
Amazon package.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But isn’t something lost
with it being a video game and not a record album or CD cover?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Growing up, specifically my teenage years, my
music collection rarely varied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Scrub my
CD tower (any one of them) and you’d find a steady collection of Rock with some
old school Heavy Metal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I think Steve Jobs comment may have been a product of his
age and generation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For someone as technologically
savvy and cutting edge as he was, could it be perhaps, his music collection was
in part a statement about who he was as a person? Was that trip to the music
store an event he never forgot? Tough
to say without asking him, but I would guess at some point Mr. Jobs (like many
of us) held tightly onto a record album waiting in line to buy it eagerly
thinking about hearing that first cut or replaying his favorite song a dozen
times before someone in the house screamed “enough already.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">For me, music has always been a driving force of my
writing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s no secret (for anyone that
has read <em><strong><a href="http://www.camcgroarty.com/books.php">Fantastik</a></strong></em>) that I’m a huge Springsteen fan and wrote most of the book
while listening to many of his classics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But beyond the loss of nostalgia that an old record album or CD cover
can bring out in us, I am thankful for streaming music if for no other reason
than reconnecting me with some part of my childhood that I had forgotten
about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I would not categorize my parents as music heads by any
stretch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were both born in 1939 and
were a product of the 50’s…even Elvis and the Beatles were a touch after their
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Further, if I had to categorize
their music tastes I would say it was classical, jazz and big band (Lawrence
Welk was on every Friday night), however both of them had a unique and rather
curious fondness for country music and in the 1970’s, which was a part of my
childhood years, country music was at its absolute best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my mind the 70’s was the Golden era of
country; acts like Kenny Rogers, Glen Campbell, Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash and
John Denver to name a few.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a
box of eight tracks in the built in’s in the family room and every one of those
acts, along with a few more, were in that box.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have good memories of hearing John Denver playing on a bright sunny
Saturday afternoon in the spring time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
happy, hopeful time…his words said as much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I reconnected with country several years ago (the country I
knew well, 1970 acts) and thanks to streaming music I have been introduced to a
slew of other artists I had never listened to before, acts like Waylon Jennings,
Hank Williams Jr, Merle Haggard and Charlie Pride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Streaming /digital music, for all it has changed (or taken
away) from the way I perceive music, it has put back in an immeasurable way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can be in my office writing, listening to
the John Denver station on Pandora and instantly be taken back to any number of
Saturday afternoon’s thirty years ago and recall the moment, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sunshine on my Shoulders</i> filling the
house as we did our chores, read a book or just sat around. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was my parent’s music collection, not mine, and while my
music tastes still vary and seems to expand with every year that passes, I often
find myself listening to that golden era of country more than any other genre
of music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hard to say whether I ever
would have downloaded/bought that John Denver album from iTunes a few years
back, let alone Waylon Jennings, but my guess is no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Bumper sticker of the month:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><strong>Wag More, <em>Bark Less</em></strong>…thanks maroon Prius, wise words!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Great song I forgot about and fun to sing in the car—<em><strong>Dance the Night Way</strong>, </em><strong>Van Halen<o:p></o:p></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Whiskey tasting…I couldn’t write my first one without
choosing <strong>Jack Daniels Old No. 7</strong>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
first introduction to Jack Daniels was as a teenager when we’d raid my parents
liquor cabinet, careful only to drink whatever<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> wasn’t</i> drank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By and large
I’ve always drank vodka, however I would tend to switch it up from time to time
with bourbon—at some point I fell from bourbon to whiskey, particularly
JD.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Much like its iconic bottle; square jug with black and white
label, its origins are distinctively American. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The stories of young Jasper Newton Daniel and
the beginnings of his whiskey empire vary, even the home website provides
little background, however I tend to lean towards the one that reads like a
Mark Twain novel—young teenager orphaned by the death of his father in the
Civil War, meets up with a lay preacher named Dan Call who distills whiskey out
the back of his general store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Call decides
to pick up a rifle and fight in the Civil War, leaving young Jack and a slave
named Nearest Green to tend to the whiskey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jack learns the art of whiskey making from Nearest Green, an old slave
hand of Dan Call…are you kidding me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What a story and as far as it’s taste? Sorry, I know my limits and a
whiskey sommelier I am not, but I do know it tastes better the more you drink
it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In three words…toasty, spicy and
sweet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Born this month (in American Literature) Edgar Allen Poe,
January 19<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup>, 1809.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His significance
not only in American literature but literature’s galaxy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><a href="http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/first-detective-story-is-published">He is credited with writing the first detective story as now known to the free reading world.</a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wow!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Think about that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the stories
title? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Murders in the Rue Morgue</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only did Poe write the first detective
story, he nailed the title! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
c a mcgroartyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01873309047931117576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592320944854819995.post-90148353822645019622014-11-06T11:31:00.001-08:002014-11-06T11:31:59.333-08:00Coming soonStay tuned! c a mcgroartyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01873309047931117576noreply@blogger.com0