Old Tin Road
I don't know where this one came from or even what it's about. Maybe you can tell me. The chorus brings the song back to traveling through this world alone, and the importance of staying connected to old friends.
Dobbs' Dream
Dobbs' Dream was born more than 25 years ago, during a weekend backpacking trip up the Alger Creek and Falls Creek region of the San Gorgonio Wilderness, camping for a night next to Falls Creek where John Dobbs lived in his little cabin.
I usually don't remember too much about how these songs were written. Some of them come in a flurry, late at night, sometimes while I'm writing on the couch with my guitar on my lap or typing at the computer. But I do remember I wrote Dobbs' Dream in February of 2006, while riding on a bus coming down from the San Bernardino Mountains with my 6th grade students. We'd just spent a week together at a science camp near Big Bear Lake. It was a beautifully clear morning. The students were quiet. There was a bittersweet quality on the bus, a sadness leaving the mountains. We passed a spot on Highway 18 just below the lake where you can look east and see the peaks of the San Gorgonio Wilderness. The sun was streaming between the clouds and the snow covered peaks were glistening. I thought of John Dobbs, a mountain man who lived in those mountains a hundred years ago, trying to divert Alger Creek by building a flume and sending the water into Mill Creek below to generate electricity. The mountain nearly killed him. Another dreamer, who'd dreamt and lost.
The Preacher
I was a junior in high school, taking a college prep literature class that I had no business being in. My teacher, Mr. Wilk, passed out a very thick novel by some guy named Steinbeck. The book was The Grapes of Wrath and when I looked at the 400 plus pages, I thought to myself "no thanks." Well, the reading didn't go too well. I'd gotten behind and Mr. Wilk called me to his desk. He was pissed at my laziness and drilled me with questions that made me think about life after high school. So in order to pass the class, I started reading. A book about migrants, Okies during the Great Depression, the Dust Bowl, heading toward California for jobs and a better life. And then Steinbeck worked his magic. There, in chapter 3, a description of a tortoise crossing the road. Only three pages. My kind of chapter. And I thought, "what just happened there." No migrants. No characters. Just a turtle crossing a road. I had no idea, but I was hooked. This song is about Jim Casy, aka Preacher Casy, in Steinbeck's novel, who goes along for the ride. I reread Grapes about every ten years. This book saved my life. So did Mr. Wilk. It's been haunting me ever since.
Ray's Last Stand
In 1983, I took an overnight bicycle trip from Furnace Creek, in Death Valley, into the western Nevada desert, then back into Death Valley. On the way we stopped at an old defunct gas station/cafe, where we shared a few Cokes and conversation with the owner. The song pretty much wrote itself. This is the first song I completed in the summer of 2006. Most of it is true (except for the parts I made up).
Leaves of Grass (for Walt Whitman)
I finally got around to reading Walt Whitman's book of poetry, Leaves of Grass. If anything, find the edition with the original preface Walt wrote for his first edition. It's a poem unto itself. I'm not sure what this song is about. A hike I took long ago? A few of Walt's words and all my fears I'd felt in early 2007 collided head on.
Paint You A Picture
Another romantic on the loose. This one feels like a very old song, older than any of us; older than the hills. It's got a certain traditional folk song motif going.
The Mineral King
A story about a restless man, who'd rather chase his dreams of finding his riches in the California mountains, than settling down to a domestic life. A hopeless romantic. A theme that resonates in a few other songs.
The Ark
Written at my computer keyboard in May of this year, a few days after learning that a long time friend, songwriter, musician and mentor, Tom Hunter, was dying of a Creutzfeldt-Jacobs Disease, a rare and incurable brain disease. How do you say goodbye when you know you are dying? Tom, this one's for you wherever you are!
Hills of California
An incurable romantic living in the wilderness. When I finished this song, and sat down and sang it all the way through for the first time, I cried. Another story about giving up the comforts of civilization, and walking up and down the mountains of California for the beauty of it. I remember writing this one while sitting in my car, waiting for the rest of my bandmates to arrive for an early morning gig at Knott's Berry Farm, of all places. This one came from the deep end of the pond.
Funny Old World
"I took a little trip all around this whole wide world." An early song written in the summer of 2006 at the week-long Puget Sound Guitar Workshop near Seattle. A folk song.
