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| Uncle Fetterman |
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| Wife Gisele Fetterman |
Just suppose they're Juxtaposed
Thursday, October 13, 2022
Wednesday, September 14, 2022
The Blues Memoir of Stubby Knuckles
The Memoir of Blues Piano Player and Singer, Stubby Knuckles, chronicles the highlights of his blues musicianship that spans over half-a-century. There is a blues CD that comes with the book, featuring the Knuckleman during his time with Lovey Lee's Blues Revue.
Almost Slim, Jr. helps Stubby to nail down the defining textures of his bluesology by focusing on the organized confusion and the totality of his blues lifeway. It is a memoir steeped in the biographical sensibility of being and becoming, of action, experience, and (often) learning lessons the hard way. It's a testament to a life lived on one man's own terms, despite suffering a self-imposed exile from those who misconstrue him and his seeming shamble-of-a-life. Accordingly, we are drawn to witness the lies and falsities of the conventional narratives of this diabolical era.
Stub offers up his scruffy life on a platter for any who wish to meander, to poke around in its more meaningful moments, punctuated as they are by some incredibly talented hall-of-famer, bluesmen influencers of our common age.
Go look up the great masters of the blues: Muddy Waters, Otis Spann, Memphis Slim, Howlin' Wolf, Albert King, Magic Sam, and so many other "blues doctors." Get to know their bodies of work, their particular expressions of the blues. These guys gave us the soundtrack to the modern world, a soundtrack that continues to haunt us today.
Behold the works of Ray Charles, Johnny Adams, Brownie McGee — there are many more out there who stand tall and firm upon their own foundational creations. Go search them out and enlighten yourselves to the timeless blues masters of days gone by. You'll be glad you did! And then give a listen and compare the tunes you find on the Stubster's CD, Voodoo Defense, which is, again, included with the purchase of this book.
Stubby's Blues Memoir offers a tour of the abyss — that more commonly understood "Gettin' Drunk and Losing Your Baby" aspect of the blues. That's one chapter, and it's the main chapter. But there is also a chapter on the spiritual Rhythm and BioGeometry that figures into the blues. And then there is a dimension of the occult or the voodoo defense associated with blues, that is addressed here, as perhaps characterized by the Dejection and Disillusionment we all encounter here on this prison planet. Yes, the blues can lead to some Dangerous Places.
So heed Stubbington's Final Word; review his Blues Resume, and ponder what sort of man is pontificating on the mysterious ways of the Good Lord's own barbecue here on Earth. He's got a message for anyone bold enough to walk in his world for just a while. But don't forget, the best way to wade into Stubby's realm is to listen to his own blues and groove to the CD that is appended to the book here (soon to be available — but only directly from me).
Sunday, July 24, 2022
Spiritual Ramblings
Hobbies mostly boil down to music, sports or collecting stuff. Think about it.
She's already an avid reader.
"You can also be a writer," I proffered.
I had tried to interest her in fashion design a few years back by giving her a dress mannequin one Christmas. She seems to have a talent for that, but like many other things she started with, it then sort of fell by the wayside. That endless loop-to-nowhere reminded me of my own fruitless attempt at acquiring "hobbies". (I'd hate to be in her shoes right now in this place and time.)
But then, the more I thunk on it, I began to see all pursuits as "hobbies." In my mind I added all craft-like ventures in "making stuff" to the list, e.g., sewing, or painting, ceramics, metal sculpting, or other arty-like things — even a service industry trade like electrical, plumbing or carpentry can be a hobby; or perhaps the professions of law, medicine and accountancy, etc., ad nauseum.
[This is when I felt a blog post coming on...a sort of BM of the mind...and I knew I would sit down to write it out...]
As I thunk on it some more, I thought perhaps "research" is an ideal hobby. You get a notion or a "fact" or an idea, then trace it down to its bare bones, looking for evidence along the way to support or not support your chosen subject. Theoretically at least, that's what scientists do; and what lawyers do too. In fact, that's what thinking is; real critical thinking. Still, how many people stop short of checking and double-checking their facts? How many of us just "go" with sources we have somehow come to accept as reliable?
As a grandfather I can say with a certain surety that as we age we have to think about tomorrow: our children, our children's children — at our age it boils down to "what can I leave them that will help them along without ruining their own self-motivating behavior?" In other words, how do we leave them "something" that will give them an advantage without spoiling them?
This is my conundrum right now, with some inheritance dough I've suddenly acquired (while knowing it could vanish any day now as a government declared "investment product")—it's challenging to figure out (1) how to protect it, and then (2) how to put-it-to-work for the betterment of the world around me.
As I think about helping to prepare my granddaughter to navigate through the world (or just avoid "boredom") I am careful to point out the spirit realm as being more real than the world of things; the welfare of our souls is the prime directive — who wouldn't agree (unless you're some depressed atheist)? Our lives will fall into place if we just manage to insert ourselves into the universal-God-plan of "Not my will but Thy will be done."
The tricky thing, however, is how to make that invisible world manifest, and thus meaningful, in this materialist age — and then pray that we are able to fall into the grace of the Holy Ghost and be swept away by that. (Now that's asking a lot of a nine-year old girl.)
American State Nationals (such as myself) have a good grip on our political/governmental conundrum. But who has a grip on the crisis of our spiritual essence? These two do dovetail, I think, when it comes to freedom. Freedom is essential to our overall being — physical, mental and spiritual. And yet, on that spiritual level, there is so much more to be tapped and optimized than a young granddaughter tends to think about on a daily basis.
And so, after this conversation with my granddaughter (and the follow-up thoughts on the subject) I've decided, poor dope that I am, to stop immersing myself in what limits me from "getting there" and instead concentrate much more on what are the means of "getting out of our shared, collective rut."
As I began empathizing with my granddaughter on the idea of developing a "hobby," it reminded me of my latest discovery, namely, the idea of "safari." I have found that going on "safari" — especially my own notions of a "forever safari" — is both a "to-do" option and a metaphor for the larger game we're in; a game of working out "the grace at the encounter," that is, toggling the spiritual essence of ourselves, of what exists between us, our inner selves, while we slog on through life, bumping into and falling over each other as we go.
(to be continued)
As I thunk on it some more, I thought perhaps "research" is an ideal hobby. You get a notion or a "fact" or an idea, then trace it down to its bare bones, looking for evidence along the way to support or not support your chosen subject. Theoretically at least, that's what scientists do; and what lawyers do too. In fact, that's what thinking is; real critical thinking. Still, how many people stop short of checking and double-checking their facts? How many of us just "go" with sources we have somehow come to accept as reliable?
As a grandfather I can say with a certain surety that as we age we have to think about tomorrow: our children, our children's children — at our age it boils down to "what can I leave them that will help them along without ruining their own self-motivating behavior?" In other words, how do we leave them "something" that will give them an advantage without spoiling them?
This is my conundrum right now, with some inheritance dough I've suddenly acquired (while knowing it could vanish any day now as a government declared "investment product")—it's challenging to figure out (1) how to protect it, and then (2) how to put-it-to-work for the betterment of the world around me.
As I think about helping to prepare my granddaughter to navigate through the world (or just avoid "boredom") I am careful to point out the spirit realm as being more real than the world of things; the welfare of our souls is the prime directive — who wouldn't agree (unless you're some depressed atheist)? Our lives will fall into place if we just manage to insert ourselves into the universal-God-plan of "Not my will but Thy will be done."
The tricky thing, however, is how to make that invisible world manifest, and thus meaningful, in this materialist age — and then pray that we are able to fall into the grace of the Holy Ghost and be swept away by that. (Now that's asking a lot of a nine-year old girl.)
American State Nationals (such as myself) have a good grip on our political/governmental conundrum. But who has a grip on the crisis of our spiritual essence? These two do dovetail, I think, when it comes to freedom. Freedom is essential to our overall being — physical, mental and spiritual. And yet, on that spiritual level, there is so much more to be tapped and optimized than a young granddaughter tends to think about on a daily basis.
And so, after this conversation with my granddaughter (and the follow-up thoughts on the subject) I've decided, poor dope that I am, to stop immersing myself in what limits me from "getting there" and instead concentrate much more on what are the means of "getting out of our shared, collective rut."
As I began empathizing with my granddaughter on the idea of developing a "hobby," it reminded me of my latest discovery, namely, the idea of "safari." I have found that going on "safari" — especially my own notions of a "forever safari" — is both a "to-do" option and a metaphor for the larger game we're in; a game of working out "the grace at the encounter," that is, toggling the spiritual essence of ourselves, of what exists between us, our inner selves, while we slog on through life, bumping into and falling over each other as we go.
(to be continued)
Friday, May 20, 2022
Who Am I?
NOTE:CLICK ONCE ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE
Roots: Grandma (Miller) McGuire and students at her
little old school house in Western Pennsylvania circa 1910
...a generation back...
...a generation forward (my Uncle Tommy in the
top hat and my mother's in there somewhere)...
The Old Neighborhood
Dad (before): General Counsel at Kennedy's SBA
The Suss Brood (before), circa 1964
My sister Rosemary standing in our old driveway.
The Suss Boys (before), circa 1960, standing in that same driveway.
Then, along came the Aquarian Conspiracy...
New Orleans days...'78-'81
Home again, home again...
Dad (after, retired)
...and me, a chip off the old block
The Suss Boys (after)
The whole Suss brood (after)
Kisook ("Casey") caught the old 'coon at last.
We got hitched in Seoul on April 10, 1998.
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My friend, Phil Giovaninni. May God bless him.
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