Hey Ben, just checking in...How you doing? Haven't seen you in a while...Valley's been asking, too....

Mike, good to have your words. And to confirm how important sign-posts are - when Britain was threatened with invasion early in the 1940s one of the first defensive measures taken was to make the sign-posts lie! On learning, soon after the conflict ended, that this had been done, we kids were delighted.

Please use the words addressed to you cos they are no longer mine.

Shakespeare had this to say about music.
"If music be the food of love - play on...".

Thanks, Mike.

Ben.

Once again I read poetry in your words, Ben...It's a gift...I struggle with words...Music is easy, but words are not...Tonight I got back together with the Old Guys, I've been away for a couple of months, and I got inspired again...I've been doing some single stuff and I got lost and happy...Once again I fail to be responsible, but, I'll work on it.

I'm writing a new song about what used to be important to me at an early age, and what's important now...I hope you don't mind if I use a line like: "Old folk are signposts for the kids. And important as such."

Hello Mike, Thanks to Valley I now know how to do this.

Good to know you are experiencing some ripples my trouble is that I love storms and so create those.

As for teenagers it's tougher for them to make the transition to maturity than it is for men in their prime to adapt to being old. How do I justify that? The lifetime involved is how. The speed of the changes for the youngsters is far greater & the time 'allowed' far less. And there are no guarantees of a successful process. The effects felt are powerful and scary. This from one who never had the experience!! Either of teenage grandsons or growing-up.

I gave up work as soon as I devised the means. I was 58 - close to those pensions, slightly (I hope) insane and far happier out of the world. I had improbable ambitions - they are very safe to have. I still have them.

Are these message accessible by all and sundry? I don't know and don't care a great deal.

It is good to share, Mike. No matter what. It's another art form. After all your music reflects the sharing of your life and your thinking about it.

My teeth are struggling one by one to leave my mouth - they want retire too, I guess. I am a shockingly good example to any passing youngsters who stare at me. I smile at them and they can see the mouth full of tooth-wrecks and rocky crags.

Old folk are signposts for the kids. And important as such. They look and see so very hard and well. I bet your granson observes you and all he sees is duly noted. No judgement just plain old noticing.

57 is a curious age, yes? The anteroom to being elevated to the peerage of antiquity. Very disconcerting cos we didn't get asked - just told.

I was writing to my son just before coming here and he was expressing some surprise at his being 48 in two days. All I have is the experience at 73 of something peculiar to me but in general terms common to us all I suppose it is a kind of bowing-down, with dignity, to the inescapable fact of our mortality. I may bow with dignity but feel like kicking the cat softly in a sort of rage.

My old dad, was, as were many of his generation, concerned with his legacy. I recall hearing him report on obituaries of folk he knew. Men. In those days, in postwar Britain, obits would also include the amount of cash the deceased had left. Thus it was my dad thought, that in the 'essential' way, he was a failure. Thus our society puts burdens on us. Today's is no different. We are expected - blah blah blah.

Let's not call these gems of frankness rants, Mike. They only qualify as ranting if we tend to repeat them over and over.

Here's to frankness and concern. And pleasure in the sharing.

Ben.

Hey Ben, haven't talked to you in a while...My life is real scatterbrained right now...I'm really trying to understand my grandson since he became a teenager...We still love each other, but what a difference a year makes....And, the studio is taking up a lot of my time, but what's really bugging me is that business has picked, and I don't like that one bit, I'd rather play...Oh well, my rant for now....

Tika? At least you had the chance to laugh Ben...We can only savor at times the chance has to offer...Better to have friends then not...IMO...Here's to melting Ben....In reality, we're a very small part of everything...But, we still have something to say...

Ok Ben, after reading more of the list, I think I have an infectious laugh. Of course, at times, the 'Falling down and helpless' could be applied. Mostly, probably, just to draw attention to myself...
I think one of the cutest laughs I hear are from my granddaughter who is similar to valley in that she giggles, and giggles, and giggles, and snorts...Which breaks me up... So, I guess the question is, Ben, how do the tiddlywinks laugh?

Once again my wordsmith friend, you've said it all...My laughs come with my moods, and so does my music...I'm currently working on a tragic and hard rock song called 'Spirits', in regards to alcoholism...And, another at the same time with a latin beat called "Tres Gatos"...(About three lost cats...) Both are coming together finally...(As an aside, I'm not sure I've ever laughed 'gurgley, or demured, or tortured..') Or? Cheers Ben...

Hey Ben, I'm checking out this 'conversation between aarhus2004 and ekim68'...Interesting...
I hope you don't think I'm always searching for you when I'm onboard, just checking everything I can..And, once again, a very scatterbrain attempt... And, yes, Ben, I sing a lot...Mostly into the morning and nightly air...

So this is a conversation twixt thee and me.

Mike, I am such a simpleton and you are a duck in water. This is tech, it is social tech and you are a social techy.

I write to myself and somehow you find out!!. It is a good thing I am a bachelor because if my thoughts can be read in ether they certainly would be easily read in the kitchen/bathroom/bedroom of home-space.

This reply text I swear has shrunk with the updated forum styles etc. One more shrinkage and I shall retreat to a non-natter monastery.

Were you singing earlier, Mike? I could hear sounds of far away melodies.

Cheers.

Ben.