Today is almost over which is good, 'cause today was gnarly.
My fully-packed warrior-Subaru "Pearl Drop" would not take me the 700 miles I'd planned, to drive across Montana to celebrate Independence Day with my Herak/Sullivan relatives. In fact, Pearl Drop barely made it the forty-five miles to Dickinson to visit a mechanic. After waiting for six hours to be looked at, she was diagnosed as "not worth saving."
It might have been way worse. She could've quit me further from home and left me stranded somewhere near Terry or Rosebud. I will sadly have to skip the Montana family reunion and begin my search for a new vehicle.
Dad was my hero today, which is a common occurrence. This time he spent ten hours chauffeuring me to various car lots and whatnot. We thought that maybe I'd find something decent for under $1500, but no luck.
On the bright side, juneberries are getting nice and ripe on the mountain this week. It's been ten years of bad crop, but this year looks like a winner.
Sandman 12:39 AM
Please have a listen to the title track from my very first CD (1995): "Roll Out, Cowboy."
I reference MJ, wild berries, Bob Dylan, my dad's bus, and my love of the open prairie.
My appreciations haven't changed much.
If you'd like to hear a cut from my latest CD, All the Things I Done Wrong, here's a timely one: "Michael Jackson."
"Michael Jackson" was produced in 2007, by Shawn Parke, as a demo--as were all the songs off of All the Things I Done Wrong. This CD may, now, due to lack of funds, be released in a more raw form. Shawn made the funky beats.
Sandman 1:52 AM
My upcoming CD has a song called "Michael Jackson," dedicated to him:
"Michael Jackson it's a long ride back home Chi-town, Motown, I found your crown In the middle of a Montana pasture And that sound was the sound of rapture . . ."
It's country livin' these days for old Sandman. Rhubarb's thick. Summer has arrived.
Thursday I went to the Dunn County Historical Society meeting. Helen McMahen retired as secretary. In honor of her thirty years of service, they served Koolaid and cake and gave her a plaque.
Friday I partook in a Burnin' Daylight Adventure at Ted and Dawn Kupper's ranch. After a meal of burgers and beans, Shawn Goodall, with his girlfriend Laci's help, loaded sixteen of us into a sturdy wagon hitched to his Belgian draft horses, Ram and Rod. We rode for two hours through some of western North Dakota's most breathtaking breaks and badlands. Laci got the gates. Upon return to camp, I sang songs such as "Home on the Range" and "She'll Be Comin' Around the Mountain" next to the campfire, while the little kids made s'mores. [Plug: you should join us on one of these adventures--they are very affordable. A wagon ride alone is priceless. Click on the above link for more info.]
Yesterday I performed at the annual Pit Barbeque in Manning in exchange for supper and a rugby-sized chunk of buffalo meat. The meat was wrapped in denim and bound in wire. It was dragged out of a dirt pit full of dozens of other denim-wrapped, wire-bound hunks of cooked pork, beef, and bison. A highlight of the event for me was having Grandpa join me with his harmonica on "I Ride an Old Paint."
Happy Father's Day, Dad (pictured), and Happy Solstice, everyone!
Sandman 12:44 PM
Yesterday morning Mom and I walked the Lake Ilo trail and marveled at its lushness.
Lake Ilo--only a mile from my house--is a prehistoric paradise this month. Blue herons, like neutered pterodactyls, honk from their high perches in the cottonwoods, while looming buzzards, like teratorns, attempt to snatch fuzzy chicks from under them.
Decomposing carp, like coelacanth fossils, line the shore below. The air is humid and dank. Large white toadstools populate the forest edge. Turtles, like children of Egyptian pharaohs, sun themselves on naked logs next to half-baked frogs.
Lake Ilo is well-maintained but rarely visited. In my eyes, it's a hidden treasure as precious as Manhattan's Central Park Lake.
Sandman 10:17 PM
Lots of action in Sand Land with a week of family fun. Grandpa's 90th birthday party went swimmingly. He drank a few, then sang a few, and then he danced a few, too.
My first nonagenarian grandparent: Happy 90th, Grandpa! I wrote you a song.
Sandy Bob
It's cloudy in the west and it's lookin' like rain Your durned ol' slicker's in the wagon again Sandy Bob
On a ten-dollar horse and a forty-dollar saddle You set out punchin' them Wolf Point cattle Sandy Bob
There's a lot of things a lot of people might not know about you You don't like to brag, you just don't seem to need to
Sandy Bob, you're a good grandpa Sandy Bob, you're a great grandpa, Sandy Bob You built you a cabin with your own two hands You found you a woman who would share your brand, Sandy Bob
There's a lot of things a lot of people might not know about you You seek the truth and you just don't like to be lied to
Sandy Bob, you're a good grandpa Sandy Bob, you're a great grandpa, Sandy Bob You built you a cabin with your own two hands You found you a woman who would share your brand, Sandy Bob
Sandy Bob, you're a good grandpa Sandy Bob, you're a great grandpa Cowboy, boxer, horseman, carpenter First lieutenant and a parole officer You're good with leather and you're good with words You walk with God and you talk to birds, Sandy Bob Oh Sandy, Sandy
(whistle outro)
Notes: Cousin Jenny took the above picture. Yesterday, Grandpa and Grandma were given an honorary plaque in the North Dakota Cowboy Hall of Fame. Tonight there will be a birthday bash at the Buckskin Bar in Killdeer--everyone's welcome. It's currently snowing outside and the ground is white!
My back is recovering. I think my daily exercises are starting to work. (Thanks for the drugs, Emily--I'll save 'em for an emergency.) I've been scraping flaky lead paint off my bedroom walls the last two days. Dad helped me texture my bedroom and bathroom ceilings yesterday. Now I'm ready to prime and paint those two rooms. ************************************ A white horse and a white pony have recently appeared in the small, tree-filled pasture across from my house. They wind through the branches like phantom pegasuses. They pace through the weeds like bored unicorns.
Sandman 7:26 PM
My new CD, All the Things I Done Wrong, will be pressed by October, granted the grant I applied for gets granted.
Boss Goodall tells me that I might be driving again by midsummer. I can last that long by playing some shows and working for the Dunn County Historical Society.
Banjo picker Billy Faier is still in the neighborhood. He's been staying with my folks. He and I spent Memorial Day weekend performing at the 23rd Annual Dakota Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Medora. Billy fired up the audience like no one I've seen and sold twenty CDs in a matter of minutes. He backed me up on two songs, and I backed him up on "The Great Assembly." Now I can say that I've played music and traveled with someone who's played music and traveled with both Guthrie andVan Zandt! Billy quit performing with Townes after only ten shows, because Townes would get drunk and then insist on driving the van after the show.
As for me, I'm bored with being a ragged rambler. I 'm ready for a more balanced life. I want a strong body, a green garden, and a hard-headed woman. My life as a troubadour is not over, but in the future I plan to travel in style like J.D. Salinger or Harry Belafonte or John Lennon.
Sandman 8:15 AM
New neighbor. Roger Hall bought the empty lot north of mine. Yesterday, he rolled his mobile home into place. Soon he will add three-car garage.
Sandman 11:54 PM
Legendary banjo player Billy Faier, whom I met in Marathon, TX, in February and visited in Woodstock, NY, a couple weeks ago, coasted into Dunn Center, ND, today.
He's snoring soundly at the moment.
Billy's an extraordinarily talented folk singer. I mentioned in an earlier blog that he and Ramblin' Jack Elliot once traveled and performed with Woody Guthrie from New York to San Francisco. Woody was beginning to struggle with Huntington's disease at the time, but he could still rock a crowd.
Billy has a website where anyone can freely download albums he's cut over the last 52 years.
Sandman 11:41 PM
Today marks the sixth week that I've been relatively out of commission due to a herniated disc in my lower spine. I've tried core synchronism, chiropractors, arnica, ice, yoga stretches, strengthening exercises, Ibuprofen, and Vicodin, but nothing has done the trick. (I searched for an acupuncturist on the West Coast, but struck out). Time is a great healer, I know, but sometimes time passes too slow.
My neighbor Vivian visited today while I was exercising. She promised to bring my ailment to her prayer circle.
I welcome all prayers, suggestions, and bottles of pills.
Please send to: Chris "Hank Williams" Sand / PO Box 7 / Dunn Center, ND 58626
Sandman 10:10 PM
Bulls are moaning in the pasture adjacent to my shack. I hear them in my bedroom at night.
One of them is named Terrible Master. Another is named Onan Son of Judah. The newest bull is named Humming-Towards-the-Gallows. He has a deformed neck.
Killdeer Mountain is green, and little yellow flowers are blooming. Found a tick. Discovered a morel mushroom, too--the first I've seen on the Mountain.
Two cormorants flew overhead. I've never seen cormorants up there before.
Sandman 8:01 PM
I'm now in L.A., surrounded by wiener dogs and palm trees, working on a movie. It's weird to think that just this morning I was wandering through the dark, wet subways of Brooklyn.
(Left to right: Warner, McGruder, Kaledo, Jerry, Elizabeth.)
I'm staying with Director Elizabeth and her hubbie, Warner.
There were a hundred highlights from the Pete Seeger concert last night. One of them was locking eyes ever-so-briefly with Joan Baez after the concert. Listening to her sing "Where Have All the Flowers Gone?" was unforgettable, too.
There were so many musical masters on the stage: Springsteen, DiFranco, Cockburn, Havens, Kristofferson, Mellencamp, Paxton, Emmylou, Arlo, Ramblin' Jack, Roger McGuinn, Billy Bragg, Ben Harper, Steve Earle, Taj Mahal, Bela Fleck, Rufus Wainwright, Toshi Reagon, The McGarrigle Sisters. The luminary of luminaries, though, was Pete, who at age 90 seemed youngest and wildest of all. He still crushes it on banjo. Ten years from now I'll be back for his 100th (on stage with him, I hope).
New York gave me the attitude adjustment I needed. I'm glad I went.
Thanks to all of you who let me stay in your flats and eat your cereal: Kirk, Van Song, Nikki, Sally, Chris, Damian, and Ai Le (who, by the way, was due to give birth to her and Damian's first child yesterday). Big thanks, also, to Andy and Alissa Hedges for talking me into flying to New York in the first place. It was awesome hanging out with y'all and driving to Woodstock to visit Billy Faier and Betty Ballantine!!! Thanks, Harreld, for your friendship, and good luck gettin' the girl.
Goodbye, NY. Hello, LA.
Post Script (May 7th): After a thirty-hour labor, Ai Le gave birth to a boy!
After a final humbling show last night, New York, as of this morning (even though it's raining buckets), is suddenly looking brighter. Off to Madison Square Gardens for the concert of a lifetime.
Sandman 11:02 AM
