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9/11… Sixteen Years Later

September 11th, 2017 Jorma Leave a comment Go to comments

September 11 crept up on me this year. In some ways 9/11/01 seems like a lifetime ago and in others it was only yesterday. At eleven years old those moments a decade and a half ago are more unimaginable to my daughter than WWII is to me. She has inherited this world along with the rest of us, but she was not yet born when it was.

This morning was the closing of another session at the Fur Peace Ranch and even though I wasn’t teaching this weekend I played a little coffee break concert at the Beatrice Love Kitchen. They had just started reading the names of the fallen as I picked up my guitar and headed on over to the porch. In memory of those who perished that day and those who continue to perish as a result of that day, I played Washington Phillip’s ‘What Are They Doing In Heaven Today?’ I could think of nothing more fitting.

I will remember 9/11 as long as I have breath… where I was, what I was doing, who I was talking to, what I was thinking about… I do not know if that is a good or a bad thing, but that is how it is.

I remember it all… and I mourn in my own way.

Categories: Diary, Fur Peace Ranch, Set Lists, Thoughts Tags:
  1. Barbara Jacobs
    September 18th, 2017 at 17:43 | #1

    An idiot. As has been evidenced here on this comments thread.
    Jorma slapped this moron down, yet he continues to pretend that nothing ever happened.

  2. Barbara Jacobs
    September 18th, 2017 at 17:46 | #2

    A moron, who continues to attempt to convince others that he is in Jorma’s good graces.
    In fact, Jorma slapped him down, on this comments thread.

  3. Richu
    September 18th, 2017 at 19:33 | #3

    @Barbara Jacobs
    So cruel.and to take over a living legends blog is so sad. Everything I ever learned bout right hand sync I learned from j and vinyl…. I love you brother…

  4. carlo pagliano
    September 19th, 2017 at 05:55 | #4

    The competitors enter the field magnifying Jorma!

  5. willy
    September 19th, 2017 at 07:37 | #5

    I think most, if not all, of us like reading JK’s blog, hearing about the music, what he does and who he sees as he tours this great land of ours. It’s a regular stop for me on my daily browsing. But I’d guess some of us, speaking at least for myself, don’t really appreciate the mindless bickering among certain supposed adults here that really only detracts from what Jorma generously shares with us. Please, please, take your petty arguments elsewhere. We are not interested in them.

    And Jorma – thanks for your sharing your thoughts and life with us here. Great stuff. Looking forward to City Winery and The Capitol!

  6. johno
    September 20th, 2017 at 11:30 | #6

    @Richu
    It really is sad.

  7. carlo pagliano
    September 21st, 2017 at 10:01 | #7

    I felt compelled, after reading the beautiful Willy’s post, to translate (a bit rustic) a poem i wrote some twenty years ago, where it is remembered the biblical dove shyness when introducing ourselves to a girl in the roaring fifties. Nothing has ever changed since, gracewise, as a matter of fact.
    Thanks Jorma for this opportunity.
    Old City Life
    September air blowin’ through my fingers
    In the big city we meet like this:
    “Bonne Mot! Your eyelashes migrate”
    Swept away in a gabardine pistil
    chignon and barrette athwart Boldini style
    back half-belt tinged with yellow-shade marzipan in March:
    “Bonne Mot! Will you follow me at the corner without exits?
    Your prose echoes right as a chromium-plated shower to me”
    Domino effect in the catechesis up at the garret
    the hypothetical side dormer-window
    halved us in a skyline under gel
    Twins the dazzled knees
    sprung from the mahogany brier-root
    among the blue pleats of maco
    when the pillowcase draws her face
    in the morning opalescent moon
    the iris of the green lizard ogles behind the lily-white buttonhole
    She is laid down like a frantic Pietà
    I shall bear that deity in mind
    while all the women will be one
    and in the nunnery of decisions
    her lavender will cover her absence

  8. carey georgas
    September 21st, 2017 at 10:19 | #8

    Carlo, what a breath of fresh air to blow the acrimony from the scene.

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