Moonlight Sail

Few things are as peaceful as sailing the path of moonlight; that is, until someone breaks out the wine. I guess that's why I can barely remember the nights when we were cold, wet, or disgruntled. I have not sailed the moonlight in a long time, but remembering those nights sure makes me gruntled.

Thursday Afternoon at the Conch House Lounge

The Conch House Lounge is one of my favorite bars, and I always stop by when I'm in the neighborhood. It is located in Salt Run Inlet, which is off the Intracoastal Waterway just south of St. Augustine, Florida and about three blocks east of A1A. You might try the honeydew daiquiri. This song is about the magic of serendipity. Sometimes things happen to you and sometimes those things are good.

The Road

I wrote the verses in Montana, the chorus in a laundromat in North Georgia while waiting for my clothes to dry, and the bridge in Key West. So I guess this song is appropriately titled. It always reminds me of the late Frank Foster who brought me to Montana and with whom I spent many afternoons at the Blue Moon Saloon.

New Orleans

I am fortunate to have lived in New Orleans, and it is still one of my favorite places. The inspiration for this song came one night when Jim "Brad" Bradford and I were in Pat O'Brien's preying on the female tourists, and we met a guy from Hattiesburg, Mississippi who was in town attending a seminar. He was impressed that we lived in the city and asked us if he could hang out with us. We befriended him and spent a good part of the night trying to protect him from a person who appeared to be a very attractive blond. Brad and I knew otherwise but our new friend could not be convinced. We soon grew tired of babysitting, and we left him to his own devices. We never saw him again, and I have often had a good chuckle imagining how his evening ended.

She Sailed Away

This song is what you get when you mix 3 parts complacency with 2 parts "wanting what you don't have" and combine with "having what you don't want" and blend with a beach setting and flavor with a quart of spiced rum. When I sing it, I'm always reminded of Sunday afternoons on St. Simons Island. I hear she is now living in Spain.

Distance

If you are single and work for a large corporation, you can expect to be transferred shortly after meeting the person of your dreams. It's a little known law that Sir Issac Newton stumbled across when he was tinkering with gravitation. Timing and/or career considerations have forced many of us to try a long-distance relationship. Unfortunately, most do not work out. I have also known people to use transfers as a way to escape a relationship. This seems to work much better.

Southward

Of the many things I disliked about living in the northeast, I disliked the weather the most. In April/May when the temperature crept up to 55 degrees, the locals would hail the coming of spring. Being from the deep south, 55 degrees was pretty much the depth of a harsh winter. So, often I would take vacation, hop in my car and drive south along the coast until I found warm weather. My favorite trips were the ones that I took in my jeep. I would leave the top at home and brave the elements. I had no particular destination in mind; I was just looking for familiar things like real Bar-B-Que,shrimp boats, palm trees and tiki bars. My guiding rule: When given a choice, always take the road by the water.

A Slice of the Island Life

I wrote this song many years ago as a snap shot of a day at the beach. Islands attract some unusual people and living on one is a fish bowl existence (like living in a jar). I just tried to document the things going on around me.

Bocanuts

In the village of Boca Grande, Bocanuts are coconuts hand-painted by local artists. After performing at the South Beach Bar and Grill one particularly raucous Sunday afternoon, I stayed to enjoy some fellowship with the patrons of the bar. Afternoon turned to early morning as I kept "leaving after this drink" for about eleven hours. As I stared at the colorfully painted coconuts above the bar, I realized that the real Boca "nuts" were the people sitting around me.

This Old Island

This is my love song to St. Simons Island and the Golden Isles of Georgia. I have chosen to live in southwest Florida, mainly for the excellent fishing and plentiful sunshine, but Georgia will always be home.

A Beer Away From Leaving

This is another parody of old country music (remember what it was like before they Barry Manilowed the hell out of country music?) It was the final hours of a Fish Head Reunion and Jeff Watson, Ron Evans and I were in the ocean floating a cooler of beer. Jeff had time for one more beer and as he pulled it from the cooler he prpoclaimed, "I'm a beer away from leaving." Then I exclaimed, "That sounds like a country song." We tinkered around with a lyric or two, then I promised Jeff and Ron that someday I would write the song. So, here it is. I hope they like it.

It's Always Been That Way

I generally write from personal experience, but this song is one of the exceptions. The very first day I ever set foot on St. Simon's Island, I met a guy in Murphy's Bar who had been dumped on by a woman so badly that all he could do was drink both day and night. He was so depressing that I had to leave after a few beers. I never saw him again but I never forgot his misery.

I Live In My Car At The Don CeSar

This song is about homelessness. A lot of corporate executives were displaced from
their jobs in the early 90's and I could not help but think about where someone
would go if they were used to the finer things in life but lost it all. The Don CeSar is
an elegant, historic resort hotel on St. Petersburg Beach. I think I would go there.