The oldest question man continually asks: Where did we come from and where are we going? It’s a reasonable question. There are many answers that are sort of reasonable as well. Some of them are rather humorous and some of the really old ones are much better than new musings and mutterings from the landed authorities. Gator gets puzzled by philosophers that haughtily pronounce we came from the expansive struggle of lessor forms of life. Over billions of years, a microbe of impossible life decided to move into a nice condo and developed that dream. It’s natural they say, after all we developed intelligence from nothing to stupendous heights. More towers of babel perhaps. A hearkening to go where no man has gone before, Intelligent awareness. At warp 10, passing the aptly named black hole library where those sorts of books can be found.

All sarcasm aside, the question still stands and the only studies that go beyond our foolishness fall into the category of theology. It is sometimes referred to as philosophy of the old thinkers: Plato, Socrates and Aristotle. The deep ones we dismiss because they’re dead. After all, we have advanced scientific thought to heights that no man has achieved…oops, back to Star Trek again. We know nothing about origins and intelligence as it comes from our worship of the god of mankind. It’s us, it’s me. Easy to worship myself. Don’t even have to think about it.

Good and honest conversation about these things is refreshing and a good use of time. Perhaps at a conversation ‘pit’ at a local library. A perfect place to speak and converse about anything in print or even a popular debate in the newspaper. Jack enjoys eating his breakfast with a book on his left or perhaps the latest issue of a newspaper. What an archaic communication device, a newspaper. Yet, left with reading the news on a 3” wide screen which seems akin to reading an old letter that is faded and yellow and needs close scrutiny. We all do it, gazing down at that little window of information to see if there is any good news or gossip to share. Copy and paste and send it on. Before newspapers, and that was not really long ago, there were the coffee and tea shops where people went. They read their own writing to one another and then invited comments. This is a quote from a man who did that sort of thing:

“Genuine controversy, fair cut and thrust before a common audience, has become in our special epoch very rare. For the sincere controversialist is above all things a good listener. The really burning enthusiast never interrupts; he listens to the enemy’s arguments as eagerly as a spy would listen to the enemy’s arrangements. If you attempt an actual argument with a modern paper of opposite politics, you will find that no medium is admitted between violence and evasion. You will have no answer except slanging or silence.”…G. K. Chesterton (1874–1936),

A wise man and very ‘up to date’ with his thoughts. Perhaps you, dear reader, have experienced what Mr. Chesterton is describing. Polite and respectful listening and conversation is delightful and also, at times, stimulating. Different viewpoints and feelings are opened and thought begins. Civility and respect are not things of the past. Listen well and speak as you are led. It’s pretty good, Jack Gator

The oldest question man continually asks: Where did we come from and where are we going? It’s a reasonable question. There are many answers that are sort of reasonable as well. Some of them are rather humorous and some of the really old ones are much better than new musings and mutterings from the landed authorities. I get puzzled by philosophers that haughtily pronounce we came from the expansive struggle of lessor forms of life. Over billions of years, a microbe of impossible life decided to move into a nice condo and developed that dream. It’s natural they say, after all we developed intelligence from nothing to stupendous heights. More towers of babel perhaps. A harkening to go where no man has gone before, Intelligent awareness. At warp 10, passing the aptly named black hole library where those sorts of books can be found.

All sarcasm aside, the question still stands and the only studies that go beyond our foolishness fall into the category of theology. It is sometimes referred to philosophy of the old thinkers: Plato, Socrates and the deep ones we dismiss because they’re dead. After all, we have advanced scientific thought to heights that no man has achieved…oops, back to Star Trek again. We know nothing about origins and intelligence as it comes from our worship of the god of mankind. Us. Me.

Good and honest conversation about these things is refreshing and a good use of time. Perhaps at a conversation ‘pit’ at a local library. A perfect place to speak and converse about anything in print or even a popular debate in the newspaper. I enjoy eating my breakfast with a book on my left or perhaps the latest issue of a newspaper. What an archaic communication device, a newspaper. Yet, left with reading the news on a 3” wide screen seems akin to reading an old letter that is faded and yellow and needs close scrutiny. We all do it, gazing down at that little window of information to see if there is any good news or gossip to share. Copy and paste and send it on. Before newspapers, and that was not really long ago, there were the coffee and tea shops where people went. They read their own writing to one another and then invited comments. This is a quote from a man who did that sort of thing:

“Genuine controversy, fair cut and thrust before a common audience, has become in our special epoch very rare. For the sincere controversialist is above all things a good listener.

The really burning enthusiast never interrupts; he listens to the enemy’s arguments as eagerly as a spy would listen to the enemy’s arrangements. If you attempt an actual argument with a modern paper of opposite politics, you will find that no medium is admitted between violence and evasion. You will have no answer except slanging or silence.”

…G. K. Chesterton (1874–1936),

Jack has been studying a lot lately. It seems as though taking a College correspondence course is right in time with the strange times we are in, the whole world is in. Distance work, computer work now made possible with fast internet and social acceptance. There are great benefits to working at home. Good coffee for one. No ground coffee in the cans for Jack. Pleasant contact with family, mostly. Casual clothing too. Just sit at the keyboard in his Wall-Mart shopping pajamas and start working with the bean grinder and French press nearby.

A game plan that satisfies. After Jack passed his philosophy finals, he found something pleasing. He kept studying historical philosophy for more insight. To be more aware of his own thoughts and philosophic views.

A poem by Frederick Nietzsche, translated from German, hit Jack profoundly: “Oh man, take heed of what the dark midnight says: I slept, I slept—and from deep dreams I awoke: The world is deep—and more profound than day would have thought. Profound in her pain—Pleasure more profound than pain of heart, Woe speaks; pass on. But all pleasure seeks eternity—a deep and profound eternity”

Nietzsche, without trust in an infinite and personal God, went insane in beautiful Switzerland. We now realize without that trust we develop what we refer to a ‘Game Plans’ We shut ourselves up in the structure of a plan and do not look beyond it. Perhaps a plan of a secure retirement investment, shaving two seconds off of a 50 yard breaststroke or getting that hole in one. Once the game plan actually comes to fruition, another one is created that keeps us in that focus on our immediate pleasure. Only ourselves in mind, others get in the way a lot.

For the professing Christian, the game plan can work against him. It can set aside the complete and absolute surrender to the living personal God. Only complete surrender to our Lord can make our game plans world toys, suddenly unimportant. Many times Jack has been told to do things, say things perhaps or just go somewhere and quite a few times Jack argues with the Living God. The Lord is gentle with him but very insistent. Patient.

Jack’s worldly game plan was high gas mileage! Until that goal of adding several tenths of a mile was revealed as absurd, he kept to it. Resenting other motorists for being foolish for rushing stop signs and tail gating he began to understand how selfish and isolating he was being. Now Jack can see anxious people in many different circumstances. Driving, shopping, manning a public help desk, many other places where Jack has contact and influence to help. To understand the game he was playing was dominating every thing he did. His obsession with efficiency now has been replaced. Now it’s how he can make life easier for other people, most of them strangers. A life long game plan that will have eternal pleasure generating the immediate joy now and forever.

He still makes plans, but they are short and usually simple. Shopping or writing. With the often gentle presence of the Lord, the plan is given. Jack feels the difference when it’s Jesus’ plan.

It’s a real ‘game changer’. Going to the bank the other day was rewarding. There was a young woman taking all the attention of the two tellers. It was a drama of passwords and ex boyfriends. Complicated. With complete ease, Jack began looking about and found a table with a sporting magazine collection. Sitting in a very comfortable chair he began to read about the expansion of copper in firing chambers.

Once the problem at the teller window was solved, Jack was called up. Profuse apologies were given and Jack made sure that he was very comfortable and not in any hurry. “It’s OK, I found a good magazine over there, I kind of wanted to take it home!” Jack wanted to make sure of their comfort. As a bonus, there was a random survey on Jack’s computer about the transaction. Five stars all the way. I wonder if they hit a button to see if everything was OK and sent the message. No problem. It’s a new game plan. Firm affirmation. Jack’s new focus is on his Creator that shows him these small things. Taking chances when told to instead of retreating. Knowing what to say occasionally after a delightful quick chat with an absolute stranger, “you’re a Christian aren’t you” Sometimes Jack is then asked “how do you know?” “Because it shows” he answers. It’s pretty good. Jack

While reading at breakfast, Jack was astonished and admonished by a simple small book, a gift froma relative really. A great gift that the relative didn’t even know they had given to Jack. The book started an hiatus in breakfast that actually took his attention away from the table to the bookshelf to look up a word. ‘Awful’ was the common word we all use but is derived from ‘Awe’. It is a transitive verb which means it is describing an object not an action.

The author of the book Jack was munching on as he munched his toast was attempting to describe the impossible attributes of God. Jack’s mind began to tumble and bumble as the short paragraph started to strike deep into breakfast. THE question that atheists and devout worshipers both stumble upon when thinking actually takes place. ‘If all things I see, feel and hear are created things (I.E. the sky, our bodies, water and food) what can an un created thing be?’ Of course to stir great confusion, a thing that is eternal and always existed is the unavoidable question. The usual questions that arise during breakfast are a bit easier to answer. Mostly. ‘what to do with my day? Why did my friend say that hurtful thing to me yesterday?’ The usual undigested flummery we all ruminate upon.

As we have asked since time began, If the universe is eternal, where did it come from? And if there is a God that created this universe, where did He come from? It’s the most basic of all theology and a question that begs an answer that cannot be found in science. Jack’s mind, odd as it is, has not the slightest clue on how to begin this quest either. He is comforted by the company of some of the great theologians. They don’t know either although there are many ‘interesting’ speculations. A lot of these books are found on a shelf in the second-hand stores. “Eternity for Dummies” is one of them.

The origin of an eternal God is an oxymoron. There is none because eternal forbids an origin. The vision of eternity begs a different mind that Jack has. He has always seen life unfold and then turn along a time line. No time line, no time, no sunset or a sunset that never ends..ever. His choice. It has been speculated that God has eternity to guide Jack writing this. Also to you to read it. It really is impossible. Everyone, every nice event or disaster can be seen and experienced forever.

So, what does the result of all this searching generate within us? At first it’s a great ‘time waster’ and then the awe of Jack’s vision turns rapidly into ‘awful’. It’s fear generated along with the awe that turns quickly into awful. There are also no words except the ones written about 700 years ago by Julian of Norwich which do pretty well: “For of all things, the beholding and the loving of his maker, makes the soul seem less in our sight. It fills this seeker with reverent dread and true meekness…” Reverent dread is a good description of Awe that does a quick turn to awful.

Seeking the creator of everything that is and was and will be…everything..and then be told by pretty reliable sources that this awesome Person (God ) is very interested in you. He wants to have a nice chat and tell you things. It makes Jack tremble when a little bit of this truth gets in deep.

How about you? If you have an answer, Jack would definitely like to hear it or read it. It’s pretty good.

Jack Gator

Jack has been faithful somewhat in reading the scriptures in his New King James Bible. I know, some folks will only accept the 1611 manuscript while others want something a bit more modern. They all have their strengths.

The 1611 has many words not used today in conversational or even written English. Thous, and shalt. Thee and delivereth and sayeth. And so forth. Phrases that take a LOT of thought to understand.

There is also a lot of things to do and not to do that confuse the present day Christian as the instructions to us seem to be simple but very hard. Things to keep in the ‘forefront’ of out minds day and night. The last two instructions by the Son of God, The word, The Lamb of God, the Alpha and the Omega. Him. Jesus.

He says: “Love the Lord your God with all your soul, strength, mind and spirit. Love your neighbor as yourself.” He mentioned that all scriptures were summed up in those two sentences.

Repentance, ‘Be Saved’ Be holy. The Big Ten written in Stone. The Hebrew Shulchan Aruch (1563), and of course, multiple doctrinal stances by various faith streams. Duplicates of course, but a lot of rules. That seems somewhat intimidating to an inquirer. “Do I have to do all that, not do all that and tell someone they are doomed if they even think about doing ‘That”? Keep reading. There is a light showing through all those thin pages.

There has to be a starting point to understand the scriptures. So much war, plotting, betrayal, wanton lust, murder and downright nastiness abounds. It is somewhat easy to understand if we let go of the delusion that we, ourselves, are not so bad. We don’t do a lot of those things I just mentioned and even toss a few dollar bills at the offering! So, look inside. Go ahead, I won’t peek. Thoughts of revenge are hidden but available for a few minutes entertainment ( The Gator Identity or The Gator Supremacy) better than the movie! How about that glance out the side window? David on a rooftop again. ‘Bathsheba, the irresistible one’ Playing now in your frontal lobe. Might have to get some popcorn, long movie! That money in the wallet you found (hey, I turned that wallet into the store manager,….well I kept the money) the list is long and no one is good. Starting point 1. The great delusion and why am I here anyway if I am just as bad as everyone else?

The great Rabbit hole that so many of us have been unable to see from the inside. Take the red pill (the matrix blue and red pills) and open your eyes to reality. There is no escape from the wrath of God. Ouch. Gator had to teach that to prisoners a while back. What! Impossible to do. Not really. Love freely given and with only one requirement: Love in return.

The infinite God is capable of infinite love and begat Jesus to do so. Love requires a loved one. The the Holy Spirit is the result of that incredible love. A messenger to us. The band leader. The dancer. You decide the best description. Jack has put forth a few thoughts on that. Talk to Jack and tell him your illuminations.

Love is romance. We have an echo of that here. Love ignored or shunned is contempt. That’s where we come into the story. Contempt for the creator of the universe and all of us is not recommended. Look at HIM!

We think we are better than ‘that guy’ and when we realize the mess we are in there is fear. What did Jesus tell us about these things? What does it mean to be ‘saved’ ? Saved from what? It’s really obvious. Saved from His Father’s wrath. Tell Him, go ahead and tell Him about your life, the real one, not the one you tell when someone asks; “how are ya doing Gator?” “Oh, I’m good” No you’re not, no one is. Only one person is good and the impossible part is that He paid your bail, plead your case AND served your sentence. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

It seems intriguing, to be assisted in your life. Not that it hasn’t happened to myself for most of my life. After all, there are so many things, necessary things, that I just cannot do alone. I cannot cut my hair (well, I could but I would not be presentable till it grew out again) How about waking me up when I am snoring, It isn’t good to keep snoring as your oxygen levels go down a bit. An elbow at 3am will do just fine.

Lawn mowing, stacking hay bales in the barn, fixing the cantankerous old tractor. A lot of things I could do but would rather not as I am not as good at it as my family is. They are younger and more fit and quite talented enough to do those things. I did similar things for over half of my life and now it is good that the farm has great family to do those things. There are many such ‘chores’ that I still do but, many of them require the ability to press 60 lb or more. Repeatedly. I have family around the place and it is such a blessing to me. The way it was meant to be. Maple syrup time is a teamwork affair. I get the firewood and help cook. Teamwork with coffee made from maple sap that exceeds any coffee ever drunk before. Perfect around the steam of the cooker.

I muse on times less than a century ago. The family homestead with the original founders relaxing at times in the swing on the porch or the bench in the middle of the garden. A lot of mental pictures as well as the ones on the walls come to mind with those images. My early childhood, pulling weeds in Grandma’s garden and things like that. Family farms are a blessing.

Now big farms have GPS tractors and such huge machinery which cannot be maintained easily by an older man. That sort of life is more demanding and labor intensive than the usual farm. Those big farms are almost exclusively crop farms. Corn, soybeans and occasionally sunflowers.

Small farms are now called ‘hobby farms’. To have your own grown food. Wheat and hay along with big gardens. However, being able to pay the taxes and usual life expenses usually requires an outside job. Of course, an on site business is ideal for that money. The only drawback is someone who shows up with a broken something Sunday Morning! A something that is a pivotal part of that customer’s life.

Cars, trucks, tractors or appliances,plumbing and things of that sort. Usually a neighbor is ready to help when needed in other areas. A bit awkward for timing at times but it pays the bills that show up down the driveway at the big mailbox. Our neighbors are good friends, as it should be. We fix the combine and he plants the wheat.

Eggs, raspberries, tomatoes, snow peas and such are grown in quantities to store and share. A beef steer in the horse pasture looks pretty good too.

The kids Grandfather is hundreds of miles away and lives in a assisted living facility. It’s hard to visit and it’s hard to see so many older people just hungry for family, friends and a front porch with a swing. A bit of knitting for Grandma and advice from Grandpa on various things. Sometimes he is right and with a chuckle he knows he is perhaps out of his league with computers and cell phones. It’s a life that is good. The family Bible gets read a lot and it tells everyone how to live well. They pray a lot too. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

The recommendation from a medical facility in a city suburb. A chiropractor that knows his craft well and his front desk advised a nearby cafe’ for breakfast. Jack decided to make a go of it. After a year or two of ‘you gotta try it!, Jack decided to go. A delightful drive through a condo development of duplex and triplex, the restaurant’s parking lot hove into view. Still stunned by the actual beauty of the neighborhood, Jack walked up to the front door and an older couple held the door for him. They were as friendly as the wait staff and a brief chat gave Jack the hometown cafe’ feeling. They were from Hudson.

Triple stack of cakes, thick sliced bacon and sides of raspberry jam and real maple syrup. An elongated plate that promissed and delivered. After the astounding meal (how many big city restaraunts make their own maple syrup?), Jack asked for a shot of expresso with a bit of sugar. Mas certo (Italian for of course) The thought of a two dollar tip ramped up to a five dollar bill. Extraordinary. The predominant rendezvous’ of diners seemed to be older couples. Muted and delightful converstaions of wise seniors. Most of them were married Jack assumed.

“Five stars!” with a thumbs up to the front desk as Jack left. Jack had introduced himself at that entrance desk that he was ‘A columnist’ What paper was not asked and as the actor Jack is, with his leather bound journal, a reasonable assumption would be the Tribune or the Press. The service was exemplary as was the meal and it didn’t have anything to do with Jack’s supposed review. Ask Jack where it is and it’s name, and he will be glad to fill you in. It’s worth the drive. This is the review. 1 1/2 hour away, tops.

So, being in the big city, Jack decided to meet a friend that was at an assisted living facility about half an hour further into the metropolis. The friendly Google lady was blue toothed into the radio and the drive was freeway fast, but effortless. Jack drove yellow cab decades ago and those skills help him a little bit with traffic. His newer car with side cameras and warning beeps helps too. Arriving at his friends facility, Jack met security measures that reminded him of the Spanish jail in which he spent a lovely summer at hard labor. This facility was multi layered with passcodes to elevators up and down. Badges. Id’s and forms to submit. No stairs to be used without triggering an alarm.

After figuring out the code procedures in and out and getting past the doors that were labeled : Elopement area. At first glance it seemed an odd place to put future giggling spouses to be waiting for a ladder. Close description. In this case it means an area where someone should not leave due to medical conditions.

The visit with a fellow veteran was hard. He did not know who Jack was and so Jack listened a lot and responded in the military way of truth accompanied with a bit of call and response. “He was a real Jerk that CO” Yah, well so are you” sort of thing. Jack also told him he was getting fat. “The food is good” Yah, I can see that! Is that shrimp on top of the rice? Jack’s friend was talking of his father and other relatives as they had just passed away. Jack always managed to bring it back to the special forces and his friends Halo jumps. It worked a bit. Then the screaming began in the eating area and yelling from someone that his back hurt. A bit distracting. Finally, Jack had to leave and after patting his old friend on the back, it was time to go in reverse with the elevator codes and sign out protocols. Both the restaurant and the visit were highlights of the day. Different food adventures and both a rendezvous’. The drive home with the usual insane drivers passing on curves with double yellows and turning a half a mile ahead. No bother, Jack had his mind elsewhere. A good place. Digesting the adventures and focusing on the bright spots and the expressions of love given and received. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

It was right there all along. It’s been right there since the beginning of time. An undeniable feeling that there is nothing to life and in the end, obliteration to the grave. A lot of atheists, even pantheists are trapped in that despair. But, despair can be engendered by many experiences, not just feeling hopeless and without a meaning. Betrayal is one of the worst as it gives a strong emotion of destruction and the end of a trust that turned out pretty bad. Often, a feeling of being considered worthless by a friend.

This attitude of despair is tragic and is a ‘constrained’ view. A viable example is a quote from Kant. “From the crooked timber of humanity no straight thing was ever made” This view is that we are hopelessly flawed. This is in direct contrast to an ‘unconstrained’ view. There are no limits to human achievement. With reason and will power we can manage war and poverty and solve them entirely. A quote from Rousseau: “man is born free but is in chains” We are in chains but are worthy to be loved by our rescuer that has loved us since we were formed in the womb. This is reality for all of us. All the flawed things of ours and all of our pride in our power can be healed by the only perfect man that ever lived and is alive within us. It’s perfect love. Talk to Him. Sing to Him.

Jack was reading his journal from a few years back and remembered when the Gator family had been betrayed. They lost a place of great import to them. A place where they put a huge amount of work rehabbing, building, painting and equipping a full house of prayer. A place where the whole family would sing and pray to the man, the one who is with God and is God. Jesus.

It was a place of no reputation and a gift from the owner. Then after a few years, a possible buyer of the building guaranteed Jack’s family that if God allowed the sale they could continue singing and worshipping there. Within a few weeks of owning the building, the new owner told them to pack up and leave. Despair and betrayal of a man’s word given. It was hard and it looked at from the constrained philosophical view an inevitable event. After all, it was too good to last as the saying goes. More crooked timber revealed. Fear for the new owners final encounter with the betrayal of God.

After a while the family learned that neither view of our world was correct. The loss was not unseen and a lesson for them to not hold anything too tight as their right. Neither hopelessness nor bootstrap lifting was any sort of answer. After all, trust in the creator and sustainer of all things was available right at hand. Crying out to Him and giving all their angst and disappointment to Him.

After the very last two hours of an incredible set of music and deep sung prayers, it was over. Time to leave and put it all away. The scrollwork on the walls. New walls too that they painted well. The drum cage and all the sound equipment, instruments and beauty created by them. Standing stunned by the intense worship and the finality, Jack looked at the clock they could see from their platform. It read twenty after seven. The same time they had started that last set. It had stopped and indeed, time stood still as they just stood there weeping in their saviors presence.

Another chapter and book of excitement and training for the whole family. What was next for them? Ministering to people. Writing and encouraging folks often never met. Speaking truth when it was asked of them and above all of that, still worshipping and also listening to others worship, occasionally involved in other places that they could use their steadied and visible faith. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

A quote from John Bunyan to begin: “It came burning hot into my mind, whatever he said and however he flattered, when he got me home to his house, he would sell me as a slave.” a. Indeed, power over other men is one of, perhaps in our world, the only game in town. Played out on the world’s stage locally or world wide, it is always the same attempt. You will do as I say.

A local battle has many fronts, much akin to warfare as well. After all, the front line is where the action is. Often, dangerous action which may have unpleasant consequences for the combatants who win or perhaps loose together. Many such battles have resulted in the unpleasantness of destruction of peoples and lands they live upon. The conquest of nature (small N please and not mother nature either) has shown us how we can shrink the world with aircraft or cell phones but also how we can wound, or outright kill a generation to come by choosing to conquer our world with our desires for gain and power.

Several examples come to mind. The attempt of several world powers to change the name of a country to benefit them or their partners. Jack was in the six day war some 57 years ago. He saw those powers at work, killing, and in Jack’s case, the good guys won with help from above (not just the aircraft of our ‘side’). Liberating a whole nation.

Jack has been involved with a local bid for power. It comes from a powerful moneyed group of lobbyists and propagandists using us and our neighbors for their own ends. Always power and control as Bunyan’s quote.

The propaganda is craftily created and repeated to amplify the importance of the controllers and to disparage the opposition. The ‘playbook’ is carefully followed and on the surface, is made to intimidate and disarm any opponents. The subtlety of painting the power attempt is to make the aggressors the victims. An effective tactic. This goes back to childhood when a child declares ‘unfair’ and threatens to withhold the ball of play unless acquiescence. A bit of name calling and pouting goes with.

An out of state corporation has been using this playground tactic quite successfully in dividing people in our country. They propose the use of natural resources a right. Their army is given a convincing argument to augment this stance. Instead of neighborly discussions, there is created animosity. It moves things along with a sprinkle of bribery and legal obfuscation. Frustrating to those few who bother to find out what the problem is and try logic and research to provide clarity. One side believes the propaganda offered and the other side sees it for what it is. “Men of power have no time to read; yet the men who do not read are unfit for power” B

Divisive and destructive for both sides of the battle! Jack is referring to a local battle, now a legal battle among some farmers and their perceived enemy, neighbors. Jack is using the family prayer cabin to speak to the Lord on how he can love his neighbor when the neighbor sees Jack and his family as enemies. In this case, reading the scripture must be the time to read and not condemn. Rejecting anger and confusion. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

a. Pilgrims progress John Bunyan b. Michael Foot

Decades ago, there was a connection and an area wide idea. House concerts with well known folk artists who played acoustically. Mostly these concerts were actually in homes of people who listen to those types of things. Many, if not most of these singer/songwriters were well known from the popular radio show, ‘The prairie Home Companion’. This radio show was hosted by local personality and writer, Garrison Keillor.

Jack knew these performers from his immersion in the folk music scene back in the early 70’s. Jack toured with a few of them and they all played at the New Riverside Café in Minneapolis. It was pretty good music and an outgrowth of the beat generation ( Jerry Garcia, Joan Baez, Carolyn Hester, Utah Phillips and Woody Guthrie to name a few) It was the musical time of the singer-songwriters and very popular when Jack was in the Navy overseas. He even ordered a classy Martin D12-20 to be mailed overseas to his ship. Never arrived. “Lost in transit” as so many of us were as well. Middle sixties, lots of war everywhere.

Jack went to Junior college and transferred to another after a short stint in his parents basement after discharge. A common experience for vets at that time. Focus is a common experience for vets. You miss all your buddies but you don’t miss the rest of it. Authority rebellion occurred with Jack as well. He tuned in and dropped out as the saying went. Long hair and the attitude of hippies and old beatniks.

After a year in basement, Jack moved into an upstairs apartment in a somewhat unfashionable part of town and met his lifelong friend, Bruce, at the yellow cab stand at the airport. They became roommates at the crummy apartment. It worked. Jack practiced his painting on the walls of the apartment doing reproductions of art work on the Beetles yellow submarine album.

After a short time with Bruce he and jack began playing country blues together. Advertised as 16 string blues, they went under the stage name of ‘Actual Mexicans’ Before Jack and Bruce met, Bruce spent half a year on China Beach after getting blown up in a PSY OPS truck. When he and Jack met, Jack thought he was a black man. After a month or so, Bruce’s skin got lighter. “I thought you were a black guy!” Bruce then replied, after his distinctive laugh, ” Heck no, I’m a dark Norwegian” It became the subject of many humorous conversations. He is gone now and Jack misses him a lot. You know how it is. We grieve.

The two vets got a bit antsy and Bruce knew some people who lived in Berkeley. Why not ditch this joint, get some cool English motorcycles, strap our guitars on the back of them, and go west? A long story in the archives here under ‘ motorcycle pilgrimage 1-6. Jack and Bruce came back to Minneapolis and Jack wound up on the west bank and got involved at the New Riverside Café. Music, Jack and Bruce’s real life focus’ became the catalyst for the next few years. Jack joined the Riverside staff and Bruce drove Yellow Cab for a while and married one of the café women and then moved north to Trade Lake.

It was glorious to be playing on the stage where famous musicians and poets came. Jack never got paid to perform and neither did any of the others either. Record contacts helped a bit and Jack had a good friend at KQRS radio that did some recording of Jack and Bruce. Alan Stone was his radio name by the way.

Remember records? They never made one although they did some reel to reel stuff at the radio station. Tony Glover worked there as a DJ at those times too. Tony was already well known from recordings of Koerner Ray and Glover. (Gator just had contact with John Koerner late last year for a funeral for one of Jack’s good friends, another 12 string folk artist, Charlie Jirousek. Charlie also had a distinctive laugh.) How many times friends and their laughs are remembered!

Jack, finally tiring of the poverty of the café, started track labor with the railroad. Upon urging from Bruce, Jack moved up to Trade Lake too. That was in 1976. Bruce lived just down the road from Jack’s 30 acre home. It was a good introduction to the rural life. Frozen pipes, racoons, gigs with country western bands and lots of new friends. Wood heat. Chain saws and splitting mauls. The railroad work got Jack fit enough to endure the northern life. It felt right and the air was clean and the noise of the freeways gone.

Through Bruce and Jack’s music connections, they continued to visit the West Bank. It was grand times and upon meeting Garrison Keillor at a party, Jack and Gary got loaded on some of Jack’s homemade wine. First and last time they ever got together. Jack dropped the name of his good friend, Mary Dushane to get in the door. She was the fiddler for the Powder Milk Biscuit Band.

Jack was still friends with a lot of the West Bank performers from the café days. They were pretty broke and Jack offered ‘House Concerts’ up north of Highway 8 in Wisconsin for them. Actual money was made, not much, but gas and housing guaranteed. Advertising of those concerts found it’s way into the St.Paul Pioneer Press. Turn outs were large enough to get a scramble for usable chairs, baked treats and rug cleaner. It was grand for a time and Jack and his friends became a rumor and a quaint source of amusement for the locals. Most of them were Home Companion fans. Old hippies that had graduated to organic gardeners and old ford 8N tractors. Those times are gone now. Radio shows are passé with U tube, CD,s Television and the internet. Television is actually now supplanted with Netflix and other streaming computer web sites.

We are not the better for this transition. It is not nostalgia but the loss of good fellowship and neighborly entertainment. Except for a very occasional pricey large venue concert, there is little to replace this loss.

There is one platform where some of these musicians still play however. It is not billed as entertainment however. Some of these ‘old timers’ can still be seen and heard locally too. It’s in the churches and it abounds. Old hymns, gospel and up tempo current worship songs can be heard and felt. The music just starts getting in the groove of a team vouting off one another and it’s over. Older pickers, strummers and such lament the shortness of the playing but it is still very worthy to play there. It’s called worship music.

One of the greatest fiddlers Jack heard, quit the stage and it’s acclimation and applause. We all thought it was a tragedy for us. At the time, it did not make sense. Later, much later, Jack discovered why that man went on to play for Jesus. The applause from Jack’s new Friend moves more than Jack’s ego, it moves his spirit and the joy is stunning. It often causes the band to stop playing and just stand, overwhelmed with the Joy from Jesus. Jesus loves the worship. After all, the man after God’s own heart was a musician. He loved to dance for Him too. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator