Paradise

November 22, 2019 by Bob Redmond in music, this is now

I wrote this while procrastinating bottling honey this past week. The original two-chord progression was for something completely different, but then the "fifths" happened and before I knew it I was making something new.

The feeling and then the lyrics came from a recent conversation in Ashland, Oregon with some farmers: they were complaining about homeless people pooping in the Rogue River which is creating an E. coli situation for the farmers and everyone else. The brutal fire season in California has been on my mind as well…

Unfinished Blues

April 17, 2019 by Bob Redmond in cancer, music, this is now

The new plan was this: a post every week; I was going to call it The Saturday Evening Post, in fact, with appropriately subversive references to Norman Rockwell. Then 10 months went by—how did that happen?

Here’s how…

Confidential to Mark Zuckerberg

June 26, 2018 by Bob Redmond in res publica, this is now

Dear Mark:

First, I hope you haven't missed me these past three months. I haven't missed you, I must admit. I've been doing more real, rather than virtual things; among the real I count reading. Here are some excerpts from a delightful, even breathtaking, book by Kay Larson—Where the Heart Beats: John Cage, Zen Buddhism, and the Inner Life of Artists. I found it in Powell's Books in Oregon several years ago, when Amy and I got a delicious weekend day to roam the city while Grandma Grace spent time with Japhy.

Robbers—Bees and Otherwise

May 17, 2018 by Bob Redmond in bees, cancer, haiku, this is now

Last month, one of my beekeeping staff accidentally dropped a queen in her cage onto the soft earth next to the hives in my yard. The beekeeper had also stepped on the cage, made of wood and about the size of a large tube of lipstick, with screen on one side. In the morning I discovered the crushed cage, the queen half in and half out, clinging to the screen, still alive, but barely…

Adventures in Lo-fi

March 30, 2018 by Bob Redmond in cancer, music, this is now

When last we met (over a year ago), I'd channeled my inner John Lennon, in the wake of winter and a crippling nerve condition. It was a new year—2017!—with new hope; I was shedding social media and trying an old-school blog.

With numb hands I tapped out a few things, then tapped off the computer entirely to roam Woody Guthrie-like many miles to South Dakota and back…

April 29, 1942 - January 22, 2014

January 22, 2017 by Bob Redmond in haiku, this is now

Mom died three years ago today. The feeling of loss and love never goes away, it seems. On the contrary, the loss almost heightens the memories. During Mom's last months in Ohio countryside, I saw my siblings and our uncle Rick. We drove through the Amish farmlands, argued politics, and made grim jokes while watching Breaking Bad…

Central Park, NYC © 2010 Bob Redmond — Central Park, NYC © *2010 Bob Redmond*

testing

January 19, 2017 by Bob Redmond in this is now

well, we are live now. check one. check. yeah, hey! hey.