"Here we were heading for unknown southern lands and barely three miles out of hometown, poor homely old hometown of childhood, a strange feverish exotic bug rose from secret corruptions and sent fear in our hearts."
- Jack Kerouac (On The Road - The Original Scroll)
In the pale moonlight, which lent a wanness of its own to the delicate face where thoughtful care already mingled with the winning grace and loveliness of youth, the too bright eye, the spiritual head, the lips that pressed each other with such high resolve and courage of the heart, the slight figure firm in its bearing and yet so very weak, told their silent tale; but told it only to the wind that rustled by, which, taking up its burden, carried, perhaps to some mother's pillow, faint dreams of childhood fading in its bloom, and resting in the sleep that knows no waking.
- Charles Dickens (The Old Curiosity Shop)
One of the things that young children like to do is form clubs or groupings that can blur the lines between fantasy and reality. It is, in essence, the creation of worlds that the kids can step in and out of, to enjoy a different life or situation or even seek protection.
These fantasy worlds can teach values, and the concept that people can maintain an identity or viewpoint that the outside world might not approve of or believe in. At best, it can create vision and a conviction that the world can be changed, and at worst, trading individuality for protection and belonging within the context of a gang or mob.
This isn't the same thing as a dream, which is a goal that can give direction to a life even if unfulfilled. Like an athlete who keeps in shape and out of trouble to be ready for an opportunity, a dream isn't always simply a faith or wish but something that gives shape to the present.
These early groups, both informal and formal (like the Boy Scouts), become archetypes that we fall back on to bring order or coherence to a chaotic or desperate situation. We also can even see virtues in criminal organizations that mimic models stressing loyalty or courage.
...the man from U.N.C.L.E....
In my childhood, I was recruited into the local chapter of U.N.C.L.E. (From the 60s spy series) which was organized by another fourth grader, Richard, who felt that the then current craze for Batman and the Monkees was for little kids. What was impressive at the time was that he owned the actual Man From U.N.C.L.E. spy kit, complete with pistol, code equipment, and a very official looking badge.
The spy ring wasn't very large; mainly because membership was only open to those who had the guts to execute perilous missions, and the fact that I was apparently the only one who measured up. In any case, the Sunnyvale branch was even smaller than the local Boy Scout troop.
I was able to rise to the level of senior agent after procuring a rather cheap but serviceable cap gun, and was able to accompany Richard on patrols to root out and eliminate the members of K.A.O.S., which was from the wrong show (Get Smart), but a much cooler enemy to save America from.
We'd creep around, peeking through fences and closely staking out weed patches that could conceal evil doers until the cops, who were called by concerned neighbors, put a stop to the missions. My embarrassed parents made me quit and if the truth be told, it was a relief as the cost of caps was eating up an allowance that could barely cover the cost of model airplanes and glue, and that our attempt at stealth was a miserable failure as it seemed that everyone knew about the secret organization and brutally teased me about it.
Still, it was fun while it lasted, and that sense of belonging was an instructive lesson in the value of groups and how qualities like loyalty is created by the person. No group mentality can really instill that; it's a creation by each member and can involve the building of a world that may not make sense of the universe, but can bring order to it.
There is another such world that comes to mind. Like all constructs, it's an imperfect analogy, but it resonated with a lot of people. That being the world of Mario Puzo's Godfather.
"War isn't an art, it's business"
- Kenneth Roberts (Lydia Bailey)
"It’s all personal, every bit of business. Every piece of shit every man has to eat every day of his life is personal. They call it business. OK. But it’s personal as hell. You know where I learned that from? The Don. My old man. The Godfather."
- Mario Puzo (The Godfather)
The Godfather by Mario Puzo hardly needs introduction. It's a classic and many of it's characters and passages have entered into our folklore and vocabulary. It spawned two great films and one pretty good one, and will be read by people a hundred years from now. It's very much like Homer's Iliad, a work that people in ancient times loved to hear over and over again even though the story was well known.
The most famous phrase, "it's not personal, just business" has popped up in many movies since then as a standard phrase for gangsters and businessmen (who are often interchangeable). It essentially means that this or that action was done purely for business reasons, and has the secondary purpose of giving the speaker an air of pragmatic professionalism.
It goes without saying that the story is filled with people who take things very personally.
That axiom and other phrases in the book are a thin veil of reason covering the cold blooded criminal activity from which the Corleone family builds it's power and wealth. Puzo's genius is the willingness to be a dispassionate narrator, so that the reader gets a real feel for the Mafia world and their value system.
The problem with any dispassionate account is that in presenting the Corleone Family code of loyalty and honor is it can become a virtue system for those who see nothing wrong with a predatory business. There's plenty of those types in a capitalist system. The assertion that it's the reality in the legitimate world does have some truth to it. After all, the only difference between Alexander the Great and a common pickpocket is a matter of scale.
...the great conquerors, and Robin Hood...
The dressing up of crime with virtue or other qualities is a common human trait. Alexander conquered what we would now consider to be third world countries and is seen as a great man. Genghis Khan did the same thing to Europeans and was seen as a barbarian. This isn't simply a matter of racism; Napolean Bonaparte was seen the same way by the coalition of Kings and Emperors that opposed his European conquests.
The Robin Hood myth is a similar situation. The story dates back to the 1300s, and could have one of a few different origins (from the metaphysical to the revolutionary). The most common modern image is that of the adept archer who "steals from the rich and gives to the poor."
The Robin Hood we now know stems from books written in the 17th and 18th century, and the classic 1938 film with Errol Flynn. In fact, most films since have made no serious attempt to change that image of the heroic archer dressed in green.
That image of a generous bandit fighting the evil Sheriff Of Nottingham is a common one found in a lot of different cultures, and stems from the historical perception that the legal arm was often corrupt or muscle for the privileged. That was often the case, of course, and even today in many countries, it's hard to tell the difference between the government and the crooks.
...basic ethos...
It goes without saying that the basic ethos, to rob from the rich and give to the poor, can hide a multitude of sins, which can include corruption and murder, which are overlooked or forgiven if the right right people are the victims and the common people given a cut.
What's overlooked is that these heroes have one quality in common that makes so many identify with and revere them. It's not their sense of loyalty, which is just common sense and good organizational tech, or pragmatism in the face of oppression. As far as giving to the poor, that's just good business practice (and always accompanied by a brutal willingness to kill anyone who snitches).
The reason so many people love those characters is that they were winners.
A classic film by director Martin Scorcese called Wise Guys showed a group of gangsters who were brutal and greedy with a code that was based on fear and a hatred for authority. The movie audience enjoyed their charisma, but none ever entered the pop culture canon because they didn't win.
I've talked before about Phillip K. Dick's book, Solar Lottery, whose characters ascribe great virtues to someone who's lucky or a winner, and it applies here. People overlook the darker actions of characters like Michael Corleone or Robin Hood, who would kill to get their way and just assume the victims were just people who deserved it, or more specifically, died according to the rules of a game that had winners and losers (with no one was forced to play).
...signs of a winner...
It isn't just crime. The notion that money or power gives some sort of pass is true, particularly in America, as both are signs of a winner. Most politicians, businessmen, or even celebrities only get called out on their transgressions after their run of success has ended. If you're making a lot of money for someone, you can be a swine but be viewed as a Saint.
The various levels of The Godfather book (and movies) are pretty well documented and analyzed, and that's not surprising given the complex, layered nature of Puzo's work. So other than what I've just talked about, there's no point in bloviating further on the points of loyalty and other parables as it adds nothing new to the discussion.
Now, the book itself, that is to say, how Puzo told the story, is of particular interest. The narrative differs from the movie versions in that the characters' thoughts and motives are described in much more detail. It results in a story that has more emotional complexity and a definite strain of black humor that runs throughout the book.
We're not talking about laughing out loud humor, but where one can see the absurdity of a passage, even if the thought or situation makes sense. There is a scene where one of the bosses, Clemenza, is saddened by the thought that the younger killers preferred the gun to the garrote (to strangle the victim). Puzo's narrative is perfect, and can be read as a quiet meditation about the loss of old virtues, or a satiric look at the civilized veil the gangsters have put over their ruthless business.
...all for one...
That expert mix of levels is reminiscent of an earlier classic, Dumas' The Three Musketeers, which was intended as a light satiric work, but now seen by many as a straight adventure tale that extols the virtues of chivalry and courage. It can be seen both ways, as Dumas' dry humor is from an earlier age and isn't obvious to modern readers.
Dumas makes it clear that there is a satiric underpinning when d'Artagnan is introduced as a young Don Quixote, but what was obvious back then isn't so much now. An early scene where the young man, who's been instructed by his father to make a name for himself by fighting anybody when the opportunity arises, tries to pick a fight with a mysterious stranger is a masterpiece of dry humor.
d'Artagnan thinks he sees a gentleman in a coach mumbling something insulting about his humble horse, and attempts to pick a fight with him. On the surface, the various cues that the young man sees as grounds for a duel are gestures that could have sparked a scrimmage back then.
However, the affronts are all in the young man's impetuous mind, and in spite of the gentleman's arrogant but impeccably polite attempts to sidestep the situation, the future Musketeer draws his sword to force the issue, and it looks like a traditional duel is about to begin.
That is, until the gentleman's friends and bystanders suddenly intervene and beat the budding young duelist to a pulp with stick, shovel and tongs. An ignoble end but certainly for his own good. The effectiveness of the passage is all about timing, and Dumas' ability to mix the trajectory of a glorious gentleman's duel with a subtle buildup to a burlesque ending. It was good enough to survive translation from the original French to English, which is even more remarkable.
...dry humor...
The Three Musketeers is a book full of people who extol the time honored virtues but often fall short, and always in a very human way. Dumas gives the characters a great deal of humanity. They aren't caricatures. We can see a little of us of d'Dartagnan's attempts to become great. His motives are no different than a modern person trying to get ahead in life.
What do both books have in common? Characters who espouse and say they live by an inspiring code full of honor and courage, and who don't see the contradiction in their knavery, cheating, killing and thievery.
However, how could the characters do otherwise? They were created to entertain and enjoy, and few pay money to see Saints (who are often boring or annoying). It's not Puzo's and Dumas' fault that their books are seen by some as some sort of ideal or reality.
So in the Godfather, when Clemenza bemoans the lack of character in younger assassins, we may not agree or even see it as black humor, but can sympathize with the idea that technology can often lessen our humanity. In his mind, personally strangling the victim may have been brutal, but it required that the killer see the life being taken and a personal sense of the reason. It wasn't as impersonal as the bosses made it seem.
...the reformation and war...
That's a fine line, and it's understandable that many may not see it that way. It does relate to real life, particularly in warfare.
Put another way, in ancient times, going to war was personal. You had to grab a weapon and kill the enemy by hand. As a result, early armies were small, and it took a lot to create a large scale war. Which happened of course, but it was rarely a casual decision.
Technology has increased man's killing power a thousandfold, yet gives many the impression that war can be surgical and targeted in such a way that only the bad guys die. The accidental killing of civilians, as seen by a bomber pilot, for example, is almost seen as an abstract, a job that, well, isn't personal, just business.
Impersonal war does create the equivalent of road rage, both in the attackers and victims.
One aspect of world war 2 that isn't reported very much is that downed pilots were often attacked and even killed by civilians if the authorities couldn't get there in time. The bomber pilots could view their killing as an abstract act, but the effect of the bombs was anything but that to civilians on the ground. In fact, most experts now acknowledge that the bombing of civilians often increases the will to keep fighting.
The weaponized drone is a very modern weapon, but is really just an old fashioned bomber that doesn't put pilots at risk. It kills well away from the civilians who pay for it, who accept the assurances that every attempt is being made to limit civilian casualties (and let's them go about their daily lives without giving it a second thought).
That impersonal and seemingly "surgical" nature has made drone deployment more and more frequent. However, drones have accidentally killed women and children, and it is considered an act of war by its survivors who do take it personally. Drones are more likely to trigger a future war than any nuke sitting in a silo, and the next major terrorist attack may well involve one and I doubt the victims will see it as purely business and not personal.
...back to Clemenza...
So the question in Clemenza's mind about how guns had eroded the old virtues could have another meaning. That is, the less humanity in any warlike activity, the more casual the cruelty becomes. Just because a fictitious gangster thought it doesn't make it any less true. After all, people are getting killed right now on our behalf with weapons financed with our tax money, so one has to wonder how much better we are in that respect.
...you've come a long way baby...
There's another aspect of Puzo's book that's of interest; his depiction of women, which was different from the movie versions. The Godfather films omit many of the story lines of the women characters.
One character, Lucy, is just seen as a quickie partner for Sonny Corleone at the opening wedding scene, and in fleeting moments after. In the book, she was not only Sonny's long term mistress, but she goes on to have a very different life in Las Vegas after his death. Some of Sonny's character development is from her thoughts and interactions with him.
Such characterizations wasn't because Puzo was a feminist. He was far from it, and in his now out of print collection of essays, The Godfather Papers, he made that clear. However, he did see women as the saner sex. While the men were off doing their criminal duty, the world of home and family were seen as the true world in a sense. The Don's dictum that men weren't real men unless they were involved with their families implied that.
That's a subtlety, a finer shade of the notion that home and family are part of a successful man's world. The modern term is having a balance.
...motherhood...
Puzo in his essays said that God was wise to entrust the task of having and raising children to women, as men would screw it up. Which is arguably true; motherhood is often treated as a service sector job by traditional males, and their protection and support of a wife is conditional and subject to whim. His point was that men prefer the world they've built, and most wouldn't sacrifice that for a child.
That's a 50s sensibility, of course, and one could argue that it now applies more to the subset of men who still feel that women are inferior. The evolution of old school masculinity into what amounts to a modern sexual preference (and not the automatic mainstream norm) is one of the great triumphs of the feminist movement, which has also liberated men more than they'll ever know. At least in some countries, much of the world hasn't changed much for women.
...macho, macho man...
Most macho dudes couldn't live the life they impose on women. Sure, they'll buy a bunch of toys to do BBQ when they feel like it, or accept praise not often given to women for paying attention to a kid, but in terms of sex and power, men completely don't get it because they see the wrong analogy. Joking about being raped or used by a woman is actually avoiding the subject.
The correct one is prison, where another guy (or guys) can make you have sex even if you don't want to (or are not in the mood?), and that happens day in and day out. You're not loved or cherished, and forget trying to voice any objection, just bend over punk. To be empathetic to the women's side, a man has to be willing to imagine being subject to the power of a male who regards you as an object. One would think that men who have to work for a jerk would understand the feminist point of view, but empathy isn't one of our strong points.
...the alpha thing...
Doing the modern Hollywood thing, like adding a woman who acts badass like the men, may be good box office, but ultimately adds no revelation to the issue and tends to simply validate the alpha male view. Being an apex (or wannabe) isn't an invalid personality or choice, but simply narrow. Keep in mind that for every conquering alpha like Alexander the Great, there was a whole bunch of apex men who led men to death and defeat trying to stop him.
The concept that women need protection by men (generally from other men) is due to thousands of years of conditioning and natural selection (by men). Women who were physically strong, too smart, or didn't prefer men were quickly given corrective action, transferred to the sex industry, or burned at the stake as witches. There's plenty of men who can't defend themselves or a woman, so the question of who's the weaker sex is actually more about what kind of world do we want to live in.
Puzo's book expressed more truth because of the uncompromising portrayal of the mafia world, and in giving females human traits instead of making them into T&A dolls and Madonnas. It also showed where his sympathies actually lay, which was laid out more explicitly in his essays. Puzo never wanted to romanticize the Mafia.
That's what I see in the book, anyway. Like I said earlier, The Godfather is a layered work that people will see different things in, depending on their point of view. Whether you enjoy the adventures of gangsters, musketeers, or bandits who rob from the rich and give to the poor, it's good to keep in mind that projecting virtue on such archetypes inevitably leads to at least some absurdity.
Masters like Puzo or Dumas knew that, and it's a good writer who remembers to do the same thing.
"I can not write poetically; I am no poet. I can not divide and subdivide my phrases so as to produce light and shade; I am no painter. I can not even give expression to my sentiments and thoughts by gestures and pantomime; I am no dancer. But I can do it with tones; I am a musician…. I wish you might live till there is nothing more to be said in music."
- Mozart (in a letter to a boy who asked him how to learn to compose)
They say that music will save your soul, but any pitch to buy something, particularly music, should be taken with a grain of salt. The rhapsody over great music can range from a new paradigm of thought, to a strenuous projection of faith like the worship of bell peppers that look like the Virgin Mary, or that albums never have boring cuts.
When approaching the subject of music, it's a good idea to treat it like religion. That is to say, there's a difference between the spirituality, and the church, which is what happens when people (and money) come into the picture.
It's important to keep in mind that any music that requires purchase has only one goal in mind; to separate you from your cash. If the consumer won't buy a relevant uplifting message for these troubled times by legendary artists, then they'll try something else. Many times with the same legends even. Maybe some scandal, who knows.
A visitor from France in the 1700s once remarked that in America, that there were so many colonels that it was safe to address any strange officer by that rank (I can't recall the source, but will add that to a later revision of this blog entry). The same goes for music, as most artists who survive the marketplace to record a second album can be addressed as "legends," particularly if they've made a great deal of money.
What helps is that the music business is similar to professional sports, and has the appeal and satisfaction that any sanctioned snobbery, machoism, sexism, and hero worship can being to the table. It's not easy to display your superior taste, intellect or atavistic appreciation of real rock and roll to those cretins who prefer commercialized pap (who think the same of you).
What's more, thanks to the Internet, and decades of modern music publicists, the origins of music are as cluttered with conflicting theories and Godfathers Of Punk as diets and nutrition.
...modern music...
Music history is so shrouded in myth that it couldn't be elucidated within the confines of a blog entry, but the one image that could seemingly help a homeless guy, the image of musician as a romantic rebel that lives outside of society, is the least useful.
Plus acting poor costs a lot of money. Plenty of musicians are broke of course, but it take an expensive well oiled publicity machine to make sure the buying public knows that.
It goes back to the notion that musicians were mere servants of the rich, which is also the case today but the more successful ones can afford publicists to proclaim that money isn't important with a straight face. The fact is, in the ancient age of Kings, everyone below the rank of monarch was a "servant" in varying degrees.
Musicians who landed a good gig could count on a decent to great living, assuming they weren't cheated, and escaped the banal drudgeries of farming or taking a musket ball for the King. Even Mozart, who died broke, did so because his spending habits, not the cruelties of the music business.
In other words, very little has changed in the music business except that we're now expected to believe that an album doesn't contain any bad cuts, and that all artists are grateful to their fans.
I'm sure some will say that all this a cynical view of the music business, but I'm sure most out there know that it's all very much tongue in cheek and no harm is intended. We all know that ((http:\ insert advertiser name)) commercial music has saved more lives than Jesus and continues to be a dynamic and positive force in these troubled times.
...music will save your soul...
I went into the homeless life with a great love of music that, like most of my old life, died and had to be reimagined. All of the cherished axioms like music will save or soothe your soul, provide deep insight into life, or that albums never have throwaway cuts, turned out to be like the old Church exhortation to endure one's lot to earn a place in heaven.
In other words, a lot of people will sell you faith instead of substance.
Don't get me wrong; I came away from street life with the same deep love of music, but it had been redefined. It's easy for a music enthusiast to get into acquisition instead of listening (or playing). Knowing the track order of over a thousand albums, or thinking that this or that edition of a release has a better mix is fun, but it's all a trivial parlor game to someone eating a can of beans for dinner.
It would seem obvious that for someone like me, who loves music to the point of fanaticism, that any book that springs from my imagination would be peppered with music lyrics and references. In actual fact, the book will have virtually no mention of artists and songs.
...emotion and practicality...
The reason is both emotional and practical. There wasn't a song that played any central role in any of the chapters, and there's no reason to pretend that any did for the sake of atmosphere or to make a hip reference. There was music around, in the air, like in a coffee house, but it tended to be functional, like the furniture.
One can add song references but unless it's actually a factor in a scene, why add free promotion for a song title that could date your work. The shelf life of most hits is a few months, and even old classics can bring in unintended perceptions from the reader's mind or go over the heads of others.
...walk on the wild side...
I remember reading an old interview with Lou Reed, who stated that he avoided using slang in his solo work. The reason was that songs from the 60s that used terms like "groovy" became dated and would often be dismissed by succeeding generations. Which is true; even a lot of Boomers will cringe listening to a song that talks about how far out or heavy this or that was.
To be fair, adding song or genre references can be a means of placing a scene in time or adding atmosphere. In Hermann Hesse's Steppenwolf, the differences between jazz and Mozart do play a role, but even then, the author doesn't rattle off song names. That conflict was part of the greater theme of change in the book, and it was the aesthetic that was important.
...some song names...
For example, three songs come to mind when thinking about the coffee houses in 2016. Angel Olsen's "You'll Never Be Mine," Case/Lang/Veirs "Best Kept Secret" and Copacabana Club's "Just Do It" all played regularly over the wall speakers back then in 2016. All are songs I still listen to, and now are evocative of that time, but back then, were what Frank Zappa once called part of the scenery.
Mentioning those songs in a chapter would require delineating the context and mood it created, and as we all know, describing music in words is a real half assed way to communicate how it sounds and affects people. It's better to talk about an artist, actually, rather than a song. Which is why movies and TV shows are the perfect vehicle for specific songs. There's no substitute for the actual music.
Also, those three songs were part of a hundred that aired one evening (in the book), and no one stopped what they were doing to dance or otherwise be set free by the music. I know that sounds cynical, but in real life, most came to drink coffee (or meet internet dates), and not to journey to the center of their minds.
There was also one important reason those songs, or any songs didn't resonate at that time. Once my ability to play music began to go away, all I heard most of the time was silence.
Like I had written in an earlier blog entry, it wasn't a case of seeing things coming down to one precious instrument. The expensive or rare ones went first, as those were the most salable and the feeling was relief. It was when the last cheap ones had to be sold off for as little as 20.00 that it hit me that the music was going away.
...the central pleasure...
The central pleasure, being able to play, couldn't be easily done out there. In San Francisco, for example, even the romantic image of buskers playing their hearts out for coins was alloyed by stories of musicians being mugged by other homeless for their instruments while playing in public. If one had an instrument of any value, it was best kept hidden.
It delineates more clearly over the course of the book, but among other things, the ability to pick up an instrument and play was one of the few choices I had. Being homeless exposed me to a lot of situations I couldn't control. Playing was part of my makeup, what I was. Keeping the two small instruments and having the option to play preserved that.
It was as described in the blog entry about the Kenneth Roberts book, Northwest Passage, where Colonel Rogers reminded the wounded character that he needed to survive to be able to fulfill his ambition to become a painter. The underlying principle was that higher aims were valuable to survival.
...more important...
Music, and writing became more important again over time. All those things that add up to a self image did. I saw that when people accepted being "homeless," many just spiraled downwards further into drugs or alchohol.
Hard core drug addicts are difficult to save and can pull others down with them. People who get drawn into their culture can end up addicted, or get in trouble by association. It's an identity that can't help survival.
I never took a drink out there, or used any drugs. That isn't a brag, there were others who did the same thing. The reason was simple; if you spend any time out there, you really see the consequences of drugs. After the summer partying, you see the wreckage in the fall and winter. It's one thing to be out partying with friends, or on a bender at home. Doing that while living outside is very dangerous, especially for women.
I had to be helped to get out of there, but even that wouldn't have happened if I wasn't in a condition to be helped. Holding on to an identity of musician and writer may not have helped in a way one could see, but at least with me, it was important enough to protect it by not becoming a drug user or thief. It was my process of course, others who survived had other routes and motives as you'll see in the book.
...Topanga...
There's one chapter in a coffee house, where I finish the edits on a musical number called "Topanga Reprise" that was recorded just prior to become big homeless. It was about a year later in 2017, and I found that it was a different experience than if it had been done earlier.
It wasn't even a track I'd played on, I was mainly playing as support during the practice phase. It just sat there in my laptop for several months until the Ali Campbell UB40 Fan account on Twitter communicated that they hoped that I would continue to play music. Which was a surprise as they had given the blog a great deal of support, but I hadn't thought they knew I'd played.
I had gone into a dead period by them, not even listening to music very much. The fact that someone on the account took the trouble to find out that I had been in a group before and encouraged me to keep playing had a profound effect. A mere gesture, perhaps, but even small wins counted out there, particularly from a celebrity account.
It made me look around for a project, and I remembered the Topanga track and began working on it that night in a coffee house (daytime was out of the question in 90 degree heat with Ivy to care for).
I immersed myself in the rough track, and it felt like a return to the early joy felt when starting to learn my first instrument in the 5th grade, the violin. The old axiom that the brain is the real instrument became clear, whether the music comes out of a violin, or another vehicle, it's really about creation.
It was clear then that something had changed in my mind about music, and that sensibility is still evolving now. Which is what it should have been doing all along before it got all gunked up with attitudes and the material dreams.
Though UB40s heyday was in the 80s, and had since split into two entities, Ali Campbell's UB40, and UB40, that's one case where a group name has to be mentioned as Ali's fan account on Twitter was intimately connected to my situation well before starting music again with the Topanga track.
There wasn't any particular song that "saved" me out there, but "music" certainly played a part in surviving as a better part of my self. To that extent, yes, music (and I should add, writing), certainly did help save me and my soul.
- Al Handa
The Al & Ivy Homeless Literary Journal Archive:
There are earlier blog entries on the Delta Snake Review section of this site that aren't on the On The Road page:
http://deltasnake.blogspot.com
http://deltasnake.blogspot.com
Cover Reveal For Hide In Plain Sight
This is the cover for the upcoming book, Hide In Plain Sight, hopefully out sometime in 2021.
-Al Handa
The American Primitive Acoustic Collection by Handa-McGraw International can be streamed on all of the major services, including Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon, and dozens of others.
The Music Of Handa-McGraw International can also be heard on the Electric Fog Factory on YouTube. You can hear the album, and dozens of unreleased cuts and demos, plus exclusive video of Ivy.
