Jive Monkey Gold: Fall From A 60-Foot Cliff!!!

I was one month shy of my sixteenth birthday on the day I should have died. 18 years ago this August. I should be eighteen years gone -- long enough to be a distant memory to those who knew me when; long enough to be as if I'd never existed to those of you who have met me since ... probably all of you who are reading this.

Hayswood Park. Corydon, Indiana. My best friend LeAnn was leaving for Norway in a week's time, where she would live with a Norwegian minister's family for a year on a foreign study program. Our church had thrown her a going-away party in the rustic park. Hundreds of woodland acres surrounded the main clearing, where we played volleyball and ate hotdogs.

While LeAnn basked in the attention of elders, her sister Jeanna, her cousins Tammy and Chuck, my brother Darrell, and I had sauntered onto a trail that led into the woods. Tammy was my first love, a spunky, sandy-haired track star with a mischevious smile. She was my world and I was a giddy moon, orbiting around her smile, reflecting her light.

The woods was a good place to show off my machismo for my girl, or so I thought. I was a natural hiker and "explorer of rugged terrain." So now I would get to play Davy Crocket. Too bad about Darrell, Jeanna, and Chuck hanging around, but no matter. This was my element.

CUE THE OMINIOUS MUSIC FOR SOME FORESHADOWING ....

Signs along the wooded path: Danger! Keep On Trail.
I knew the reason, because my cousin Michael and I had explored this section a couple hours previous. To the right of the trail, the ground dipped precariously into a long, steep hill, ending at the edge of a cliff that towered some sixty feet above the grassy forest below. Michael and I had thrown rocks over the side of the cliff, just to watch them fall. Ironic statement of the day -- Bobby to Michael: "Man, if anyone fell off this cliff, they'd be dead for sure."
Michael to Bobby: "Or they'd be crippled for life."

But Michael had left soon after, so here I was, back on the same dirt path with a younger crew, holding hands with my sweetie. I slipped free of her fingers and dashed to the other side of the danger sign, swinging out over the hill on a small tree. I did it two or three times on different trees, ignoring Tam's chastisement. She was worried about me! Guys dig that.

"I'm an expert woodsman. I can tell how much weight a tree can support." Those were my last words before the tree I had swung out on snapped and I careened down the hill. Just before I began my descent, right after the SNAP, I had one of those "frozen in time" moments. My eyes met Tammy's. Our expressions said "Uh oh." Then I was gone.

I whisked down the hill on my back -- no somersaults or anything like that. I know this because of the position of the cuts on my back and arms afterwards. When you're sliding as fast as I was, let me tell you -- grass cuts. You might think of grass as a benign decoration, but to me each blade was, well, a blade. Think about when you've gotten a paper cut. Imagine that happening hundreds of times, all over your back. Sucks.

Then I plummeted off the edge of the cliff. My brother Darrell says my hand clawed onto the side, and, for a second, held steady, as if I'd caught myself right on the edge, but then my fingers slipped off. I don't remember that at all. I remember sliding off the hill into nothingness.

They say that in the last second of your existence, your whole life passes before your eyes. Not mine. I didn't even think to pray. The one thought I remember -- and I remember it clear as a raindrop -- was "This is it. Wow. 15. This is my life. And it ends like this. Something that only happens in the movies. I can't believe I'm dying now." And it wasn't a screaming thought, not a pleading thought, not a desperate thought. It was as if I'd spent all my desperation skidding down the hill, and now had no emotion left but resignation. Then there was nothing. Blank. Maybe I fainted.

The bottom of the cliff. A grassy plain. Flat on my back. Pain? Didn't feel it. But I knew where I was. Didn't have to consider whether I was in heaven -- I had fallen the entire length of the cliff and lived. I heard Tammy's brother Chuck, the youngest of our group by a couple of years, sobbing from above (they told me that as soon as I fell, Chuck dropped to the ground, convinced that if he took one more move, he too would fall. They also told me that Tammy and Jeanna were speechless, light-headed, and that my brother had stoically said, "I'll go get him." As if meaning, "I'll retrieve the body.")

Now, I said I was feeling no pain. But how could this be? Surely, as soon as I tried to sit up, I would discover my back was broken. It would be the worst pain imaginable. But first things first -- I had to quiet Chuck down and restore peace to the others. I hollered "That was fun!" The second I did that, Chuck stopped crying and Darrell howled with laughter that could have shaken a tower. Tammy hollered something like "You idiot!"

Okay, that was taken care of. I was back to being my true love's idiot -- the jester for my Queen. So now -- about this broken back ....

I sat up. Still no pain. Huh. "Well, I bet when I try to stand, just as I get to my feet the pain will shoot through my body and I'll collapse in a gnarled heap on the earth."

I stood. Still no pain. A miracle! Just like all those Bible stories I'd always read, and that I'd heard from a hundred different gospel groups in a thousand different gospel songs in my dad's record collection. Jehovah had parted the Red Sea, toppled the walls of Jericho, shut the mouths of lions, raised His son Jesus, and kept Bobby Gilles safe in a battle with a cliff. The scars would take a couple months to heal, but that was no biggie. Heck, they were a badge of honor. Made me look like a tough guy! Every kid wants to have macho scars, and now I had a heap of them.

My friends were shouting at me from on high. I don't know what they were saying, I was still trying to grasp the fact that I was alive and well. I told them that I would simply scale the cliff and rejoin them, if not for all the spiders on the wall. You see, this served the purpose of letting Tammy know that I was heroic enough to scale the cliff I had just fallen from. She knew about my arachnaphobia (which continues to this day) so naturally she couldn't expect me to climb up when there were spiders, but she would have to understand that if it wasn't for the spiders, I was certainly strong enough to climb.

I walked about a quarter mile to where the cliff tapered off, and I traipsed back up to my companions, laughing and shrugging off their concern. I made them promise not to tell my parents, and I assured them that I didn't need to go to the hospital. Indeed, I never went to the hospital.

I'd like to be able to say that from then on, I lived my life with purpose -- that I recognized the gift God had given me, and I determined to never take life for granted again. That I have made every second count since then. But alas ....

It has only been in the last couple years that this lesson has really sunk in with me. The person I was died that day. Who I am now is not who I would have been if not for that fall. I'm sure of it. It is a delayed sense of purpose, but it is here nonetheless. If I didn't have this incident to look back on, to draw from, I know I would have less sense of mission, less purpose, and less dedication to the things that are important. When people say that life is fragile, that it is a gift, that it could end at any time, I know. I know.

A Little Something From Wesley:

1 FATHER, if thou must reprove
For all that I have done,
Not in anger, but in love
Chastise thine humbled son;
Use the rod, and not the sword,
Correct with kind severity;
Bring me not to nothing, Lord!
But bring me home to thee.

2 True and faithful as thou art,
To all thy Church and me,
Give a new, believing heart,
That knows and cleaves to thee;
Freely our backslidings heal,
And, by thy precious blood restored,
Grant that every soul may feel,
"Thou art my pardoning Lord!"

3 Might we now with pure desire
Thine only love request;
Now, with willing heart entire,
Return to Christ our rest!
When we our whole hearts resign,
O Jesus, to be filled with thee,
Thou art ours, and we are thine,
Through all eternity.

by Charles Wesley

Quote Of The Day

Last night, I and my posse saw Chris Thile and his How To Grow A Band band in concert at the Kentucky Center For The Arts. We were center stage, second row -- great seats.

Thile of course is the mandolin virtuoso of Nickel Creek. He is touring with a great group of pickers in support of his solo album, "How To Grow A Woman From The Ground."

Too many great songs and jams to mention, but for me, perhaps the highlight of the set was a cover of The Band's "Ophelia."

And now, here is a word for you:

"The early bird may get the worm, but it's the second mouse who gets the cheese."

Help Me Choose ...

So I wrote a new hymn the other night in 8-6-8-6-8-8-8-6 meter. General comments/critiques are welcome, but I'd especially like your help deciding which way to go in one particular line, which is typed in bold within the body of the song:

In splendid, hallowed temple halls
In courts and crowded streets
Walked priests and teachers of the Law
In pious majesty,
Who loved cold justice, eye for eye,
Who sold forgiveness for a price,
Showed honor to the qualified
And scorn to enemies.

From heaven down to manger stall
The Man of Sorrow came,
The victim of the broken Law
Yet, Name Above All Names,
Who bore the wrath due everyone
For crimes that they, not He, had done,
Forbearing servant -- God the Son
Who wore His mockers' shame.

O gift of Christ; O Holy Ghost
By whom I must forgive,
Who makes my heart His duty-post
And teaches me to live:
O keep the cross before my eyes --
The only fount that purifies --
Forgives me daily and supplies
The grace that I must give.

Now taking up our cross each day,
Like the Anointed One,
For enemies we learn to pray,
Forgiving everyone.
To all the taunts of passers-by
Lord help us bid them, “Come and die,”
That they, like we, may find new life,
And all will live as one.

So now imagine this in place of the line that is bold-typed:

The Lamb and Lion came

Which one? Or do you have a third alternative? If so, it has to be six syllables.

Environmental Stewardship

Someone at my church recently asked us all, in our online chatroom, what we were each doing to positively impact the environment and too make wise use of energy resources. Here is my response. What are you doing? What could people do? What should Christians do?

I use public transportation (TARC) whenever I can, encourage carpooling, recycle cans, newspapers, and milk cartons, and argue endlessly that we (humans, not me personally) could make cars that run on anything we wanted them to run on if we were serious about it and that we could, through our elected officials, whip the oil companies into shape.

I turn off lights when I leave a room, don't use light I don't need, don't channel-surf the TV, don't run the AC or furnace more than necessary, or leave the fridge open too long.

Well, actually I leave the fridge open too long but that's because I want to make sure no tasty morsels have escaped me. But anyway, that's pretty much all I do. I'm sure I should do more. In general, I don't think about it enough.

How Prideful Are You?

Pride leads to all kinds of sin. I think, when I examine my attitudes, that sometimes I am actually much higher than these results indicate. Something to work on, always.

Your Pride Quotient: 47%

You have your proud moments, but you're also likely to be a little ashamed of them. Don't be too hard on yourself. It's normal to want to make a stellar impression.

How Much Pride Do You Have?

Thought For The Day/ New Song

You may recall me posting lyrics to a song I'd written a month or two ago called "Lord, Help Me In My Unbelief." You can know hear it on my soundclick.com/bobbygilles page by clicking HERE. It should automatically play from my main page.

And now:

"If you think nobody cares if you're alive, try missing a couple of car payments."

and:

"Always remember you're unique. Just like everybody else."

A little Yeats For Ya

THE CAP AND BELLS

by: William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

HE jester walked in the garden:
The garden had fallen still;
He bade his soul rise upward
And stand on her window-sill.

It rose in a straight blue garment,
When owls began to call:
It had grown wise-tongued by thinking
Of a quiet and light footfall;

But the young queen would not listen;
She rose in her pale night-gown;
She drew in the heavy casement
And pushed the latches down.

He bade his heart go to her,
When the owls called out no more;
In a red and quivering garment
It sang to her through the door.

It had grown sweet-tongued by dreaming
Of a flutter of flower-like hair;
But she took up her fan from the table
And waved it off on the air.

'I have cap and bells,' he pondered,
'I will send them to her and die';
And when the morning whitened
He left them where she went by.

She laid them upon her bosom,
Under a cloud of her hair,
And her red lips sang them a love-song
Till stars grew out of the air.

She opened her door and her window,
And the heart and the soul came through,
To her right hand came the red one,
To her left hand came the blue.

They set up a noise like crickets,
A chattering wise and sweet,
And her hair was a folded flower
And the quiet of love in her feet.

"The Cap and Bells" is reprinted from The Wind Among the Reeds. W.B. Yeats. London: Elkin Mathews, 1899.

Movie Quote Of The Day

From "Joe Dirt:"

Joe Dirt[talking to himself while brushing hair in the mirror] People like that security guard. They don't really mean what they say. They just got their own issues and what not. Alls I got to do is keep bein' a good person. No matter what, good things'll come my way. Everything's gonna happen for me, just so long as I never have "no" in my heart.
[toilet flushes and man walks out of stall. Joe looks down awkwardly]
Joe Dirt: Right on. Things are gonna happen for me! I'm Joe Dirt!

Should Christian Songwriters Copyright Their Songs?

So a guy on a Christian music forum asked whether Christians should copyright their songs. As someone who has been in different parts of the Christian music industry, and as someone who works for a law firm with a big Intellectual Property division (though I'm not a lawyer or paralegal), and simply as a Christian who writes songs, I thought I'd give my opinion. Here it is -- fodder for conversation in case the issue ever comes up in your presence. 8-)

First of all, what we're talking about is whether or not to register and legally enforce our copyrights, since U.S. law states that a song is automatically copyrighted the moment its creation is recorded or documented in any tangible way. In other words, if you wrote your lyrics out on a napkin, the song is copyrighted. If you sung them into someone's voicemail, the song is copyrighted.

My policy is this: My calling is to write meaningful worship songs that express theological truth and our heartfelt response to that truth. I want churches to do my songs. And if they, or any worship band, aren't making money off my songs, then I don't want to either. They can freely perform them. It's an honor for me to hear that people are using my songs to glorify God.

But if a band wanted to do my songs, put them on a CD to make a profit, and started selling thousands of units, then I'd expect to make the legally mandated royalties and no more, because I've gotta eat, put clothes on my back, and keep a roof over my head just as much as the band members and the record company workers do.
_________________

Special Recipe

Let me tell you about a legendary concoction in the Gilles family called "Special." It's called Special because it's the only thing my dad knows how to cook, and he cooked it every Saturday (the day that my mom declared as her day off from cooking). Each of dad's three sons has carried on this tradition.

First, you boil water.

When it's boiling, you dump in whatever seasoning you feel like dumping in, using as much as you feel like using. Regular ingredients include, in varying amounts, salt, pepper, onion powder, cinammon (just a tad), garlic, chili powder, and/or Italian Seasoning.

Then you cook some kind of macaroni in there till it's done (I usually use medium-sized pasta shells).

Then you drain, pour the shells back in the pot, and pour tomato juice on top of the shells. Now, you could substitute tomato sauce or soup, or V-8, for the tomato juice, but juice is the preferred base.

Enjoy.

Jive Monkey Gold: Child-ish Poetry

Here is a reprint from June 2005. Garrett is still writing the occasional poem, mind you. In fact, he says, "I'm a good poet."

Since This Was Pretty Much Poetry Week On This Blog

This was my son Garrett's first real poem, written last October when he was 7, for his second grade English assignment:

Fall

Fall is like a leaf skull
Is so tall in the Fall
Call your friends
Jump in leaves in the trees
Like some thieves
Wearing green to blend in
Like the leaves in the trees
Act like bees in the trees
Feel the breeze
Play on swings
Jump in the air if you dare
Have bare feet
Dare to stare, feel the scare
In your underwear!

Yeah, he and his friends (and his brother Logan) are at that age where any mention of undergarments or bodily noises causes bellyfulls of laughter.

Biblical Guidelines For Music

On a Christian musicians' message board, someone posted THIS article from a guy who lambasts modern Christian musicians, and in particular, those of the "CCM" persuasion. I offered my thoughts, reprinted below. Opinions?

It's certainly a provocative article. For one thing, the term "Christian music" can be confusing. This guy seems to think the only kind of music a Christian should make is praise and worship music (I'm speaking of lyrical content, not style or genre). I am primarily called to write music for the Church -- specifically congregational song. But I do write other songs, and I have wonderful Christian friends who, while they may write a worship song now and then, are primarily playing coffee houses and other "secular" venues. They do so with passion and moral integrity. Nothing wrong with singing a song about your girlfriend -- no need to feel the need to slip a "Jesus" in there so it will be "Christian."

On the other hand, I do feel that, speaking specifically of congregational worship music, many modern worship songs offer a very light theology as opposed to hymns that offered praise to God while also "teaching and admonishing each other" in song. I wouldn't accuse any writers I know or have heard of, in terms of "purposefully" watering down the gospel message. Nevertheless, there is a wonderful opportunity for modern Christian writers to address doctrines in their lyrics that are crucial to our faith and yet under-represented in modern music, such as the resurrection and the Second Coming.

The best worship songs combine objective truth with subjective response. Many modern worship songs are high on subjective response but low on objective truth. Let's, then, be the writers that speak to each other, in whatever style/genre we choose, and tell each other "the story of Jesus and His love."

But as far as Christian artists who do not feel called to position their music as music for the Church, performed in churches, I say they are no less Christians than, for instance, a skilled home builder. The builder isn't building "Christian homes." That is, he isn't carving "Christ" onto the structure of his houses, but he is building them as structurally sound and aesthetically pleasing as he can, giving thanks to God for the ability to do so.

Wesley and Auto Trouble

My car lies dead beside the road
Now I will have to have it towed
At least no money on it's owed.

Even the rhymning doesn't lift the cloud from my soul. But this will do it -- contemplation on victory in Christ, courtesy of Mr. Charles Wesley:

Arise, my soul, arise; shake off thy guilty fears;
The bleeding sacrifice in my behalf appears:
Before the throne my surety stands,
Before the throne my surety stands,
My name is written on His hands.

He ever lives above, for me to intercede;
His all redeeming love, His precious blood, to plead:
His blood atoned for all our race,
His blood atoned for all our race,
And sprinkles now the throne of grace.

Five bleeding wounds He bears; received on Calvary;
They pour effectual prayers; they strongly plead for me:
“Forgive him, O forgive,” they cry,
“Forgive him, O forgive,” they cry,
“Nor let that ransomed sinner die!”

The Father hears Him pray, His dear anointed One;
He cannot turn away, the presence of His Son;
His Spirit answers to the blood,
His Spirit answers to the blood,
And tells me I am born of God.

My God is reconciled; His pardoning voice I hear;
He owns me for His child; I can no longer fear:
With confidence I now draw nigh,
With confidence I now draw nigh,
And “Father, Abba, Father,” cry.

How Greedy Are You?

Here's my result. Now, I'm a little more greedy when it comes to food ...

Your Greed Quotient: 22%

You're a little greedy, but generally you don't let your desire get the better of you. You know that good things will come to you - as long as you wait your turn!

How Much Greed Do You Have?

New Song And Thought For The Day

I've got a new demo up of a song I wrote earlier this year at soundclick.com/bobbygilles. It's playing in the default player on my home page website, so you can listen while reading the fascinating interview with me on my home page, or you can click on the music page, then click on "So Amazed" and listen to it there.

"Experience is something you don't get until just after you need it."

Run For Your Life -- a story

Thanks to everyone who has been listening to my music on soundclick.com/bobbygilles. I've had several songs turn up at various times in the "top 20" on their Christian music charts (based on number of different people who play the songs in a given day) and two that made the top ten. Fun.

Here is a little story/poem for you. It's a bit experimental:

RUN FOR YOUR LIFE



Sprinting through the jungle, smacking into leaves -- they may as well be razors, slicing tender skin.

Why am I here, running for my life in this heat? Can’t see five feet … can’t slow down. Probably have a heart attack … cannibals … Tree! Barely missed. Shouldn’t have taken this job. At my age.

Sprinting through the jungle, smacking into leaves -- they may as well be razors, slicing tender skin. Natives closing in, aiming poison arrows. No rescue in sight; frazzled to the marrow.

Almost tripped again. They’re gaining. Can’t catch … breath. Five million worth it? Already got more than I can spend. Gaining on me …rock! Too old.

Sprinting through the jungle, smacking into leaves -- they may as well be razors, slicing tender skin. Natives closing in, aiming poison arrows. No rescue in sight; frazzled to the marrow. Swinging on a vine, picking up the pace, like a tarnished pendulum, plunging through space.

Have to do it all again. Till I get it right, he says …. I think I’m bleeding God I need air. Used to be Macbeth. Used to be Willy Loman. Used to be The Gentleman Caller. Now … studio whore. Same character overandover. Just change the title. Not even that -- Part 2, Part 3.

Sprinting through the jungle, smacking into leaves -- they may as well be razors, slicing tender skin. Natives closing in, aiming poison arrows. No rescue in sight; frazzled to the marrow. Swinging on a vine, picking up the pace, like a tarnished pendulum, plunging through space. "Time to end this race."

"Cut! C’mon, John, you’re running like a girl. You’re being chased by cannibals, for Christ’s sake. Hey, I’m talking to you. Where you going? John, come back here! We’re a month behind. John, don’t you run out on me. You run out on me, you’re finished in this town. Answer me. Get back here! We have a contract, John. You can’t do this to me. Do you KNOW who I AM?"

THE END

Like Toys? Know Someone Who Does?

With Christmas just around the corner, I want to give a plug for my good friend and brother in Christ, Matt Requet, who has an online toystore at matthewstoystore.com. Just CLICK HERE to go there and see all the cool toys you can order. Most are educational toys, games, old-time wooden toys, and the like, categorized into age-appropriate lists.

You can also get a lot of cool collectibles: Star Wars, Superman, Marvel Comics, and other brands. Check it out!

Daily Bit O' Wisdom

"There are two theories to arguing with women. Neither one works."

Kipling In Da House ...

Here's a hymn by Rudyard Kipling:

Recessional
June 22, 1897

GOD of our fathers, known of old—
Lord of our far-flung battle-line—
Beneath whose awful Hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, 5
Lest we forget, lest we forget!

The tumult and the shouting dies—
The captains and the kings depart—
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart. 10
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget, lest we forget!

Far-call'd our navies melt away—
On dune and headland sinks the fire—
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday 15
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget, lest we forget!

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe— 20
Such boasting as the Gentiles use
Or lesser breeds without the Law—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget, lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust 25
In reeking tube and iron shard—
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
And guarding calls not Thee to guard—
For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord! 30

Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.

Movie Quote Of The Day

From Annie Hall:

[a guest is calling his meditation guru]
Party guest: Hello? I forgot my mantra.

Jive Monkey Gold: Ain't Love Grand

Ok, so I'm a month behind on celebrating this anniversary with a reprint of my Jive Monkey column last September, but congrats to Jason and Stacey on celebrating one year of marriage. And now, let us relive the day with this column from last September 10:

Ain't Love Grand

So Pinhead Stacey and Nature Boy Jason were married outdoors on the grounds of the Howard Steamboat Museum in Jeffersonville last Saturday evening. It seems like only yesterday that they got engaged, and a day or two before that when we Nightriders met Jason (well, actually I'd met him previously, because we worked together). Weird how time flies.

Although it was UNEARTHLY HOT, I must say the wedding was beautiful. Clear blue skies, a magestic Victorian mansion, a sparkling outdoor fountain, a nice-sized dance floor and stage on the grounds ... what more could you ask for? (now that a year's gone by, I'm less emotionally scarred by the memory of oppresive heat. I'm remembering the day more and more fondly. - ed)

I must say, Stacey was gorgeous. Obviously, she takes after her big brother .... 8-)(however, once a pinhead, always a pinhead. - ed)
I was the "wedding singer" (take that, Adam Sandler) and I must say, I was so lucky to get to perform with Little Lorie King and Jive Tone Nathan Stites. Those two could make anyone, even me, sound great.

Nathan played keyboard with me during the reception. I had written a funky little blues tune for the occasion, and Nathan came up with a boogie woogie piano part that fleshed the song out and made it dance. I was so pumped after that song that I wanted to tell the DJs to go home and let Nathan and I take it from there. I'd heard Nathan do some classical stuff and modern worship stuff before, but let me tell you -- Nathan is a closet blues man. It's in his blood. Somebody get that guy some dark glasses and a fedora.

Lorie's voice blows me away. It always does. As music director for a gospel radio station, I used to have to judge a lot of talent, and I can honestly say Lorie is one of the best pure vocalists I've ever heard. It's so versatile -- no matter what she's singing, she sounds great. I'm thinking of not writing songs anymore. I'm just going to write out names from a phone book -- enough for about 3 minutes of reading -- come up with a melody, and have Lorie sing the names on my demos. They will sound like masterpiece songs because of her voice.

Harold Best has written several times on the need for more artistic "home town heroes" in the Church. He says the Church has gotten very good at creating "Christian Celebrities": big time worship "stars" who tour all over and sell tons of CD's, but what we need more of are artists who are every bit as talented as these "big names" but who will make themselves useful in a local church body, and who will dedicate their talents to a specific community. It's like he had Lorie and Nathan in mind when he wrote those words, because that is what they are. If you ever get a chance to hear either of them or work with them, you should jump on it.

As to the married couple -- I understand that their planned honeymoon in Myrtle Beach has been changed, do to Hurrican Ophilia. I'm not sure where they're headed now, but I wish them the best. Even though I and my co-conspirators have a key to their house, and some, uh, interesting plans for its use before they come home. When the cats are away, the mice will play .... (fortunately for the cats, we mice couldn't coordinate our schedules during that week they were away, so no pranks were pulled in the honeymooners' home. Oh, and I will add that they've since bought a new house. It's gorgeous. -- ed)

Wasn't I A Great Big Brother ...

Click HERE to read a column in the Washington Post by Marc Fisher about the state of music education in America, and what the organizers of The National Anthem Project are trying to do about it.

It reminds me of when I was around 17-18 and found out that my youngest brother, 10 years my junior, wasn't even learning the old folk songs that I had to learn in music class as an elementary student. I mean, really, how can anyone living in Southern Indiana, 15 minutes from Louisville, Ky. not know a single line of "My Old Kentucky Home" or "Back Home Again In Indiana," or for that matter "Oh Susanna" "Oh My Darling Clementine," "The Yellow Rose Of Texas" or "You're A Grand Old Flag?"

So I made my little brother come down to my room every evening for 20 minutes worth of "music instruction," which consisted of me playing all those songs on my guitar and making him sing along.

Thought of the Day

"No one is listening until you fart."

But you blog friends still get to read my songs first ...

Here's something I wrote in a different hymn-meter than I've used before. I have a melody for it and will probably put the mp3 up on my site in a couple weeks:

MY LIFE IN CHRIST
(11-11-14-11 hymn meter)


Not beginning after death, my life in Christ.

Now He calls me to His rest, my life in Christ.

In my broken, fallen frame works the wonder of His Name,

Radiance of holy flame, my life in Christ.



Righteousness I could not buy, my life in Christ.

Now and in the by-and-by, my life in Christ.

Shaped and molded more each day; taught to trust Him and obey,

Guided when I lose my way, my life in Christ.



Present power, future hope, my life in Christ.

By His death made possible, my life in Christ.

By the grave stone rolled away, demons flee in hopeless rage,

Death is just a turning page, my life in Christ.




By the grave stone rolled away, demons flee in hopeless rage,

Death is just a turning page, my life in Christ.

What Kind Of Intelligence Do You Have?

Here's my result:

Your Dominant Intelligence is Linguistic Intelligence

You are excellent with words and language. You explain yourself well. An elegant speaker, you can converse well with anyone on the fly. You are also good at remembering information and convicing someone of your point of view. A master of creative phrasing and unique words, you enjoy expanding your vocabulary. You would make a fantastic poet, journalist, writer, teacher, lawyer, politician, or translator.

What Kind of Intelligence Do You Have?

These rules are hilarious

... and, to varying degrees, they're pretty much true:

36 RULES FOR BANDS - courtesy Elliot Randall



1. Never start a trio with a married couple.

2. Your manager's not helping you. Fire him/her.

3. Before you sign a record deal, look up the word "recoupable" in the dictionary.

4. No one cares who you've opened for.

5. A string section does not make your songs sound any more "important".

6. If your band has gone through more than 4 bass players, it's time to break up.

7. When you talk on stage you are never funny.

8. If you sound like another band, don't act like you're unfamiliar with their music ("Oh, does Rage Against The Machine also do rap-rock with political lyrics?")

9. Asking a crowd how they're doing is just amplified small talk. Don't do it.

10. Don't say your video's being played if it's only on the Austin Music Network.

11. When you sign to a major label, claim to have inked the best contract ever. Mention artistic freedom" and "a guaranteed 3 record deal".

12. When you get dropped insist that it was the worst contract ever and you asked to be let go.

13. Never name a song after your band.

14. Never name your band after a song.

15. When a drummer brings in his own songs and asks to perform one of them, begin looking for a new drummer IMMEDIATELY.

16. Never enter a "battle of the bands" contest. If you do you're already a loser.

17. Learn to recognize scary word pairings: "rock opera", "white rapper", "blues jam", "swing band", "open mike", etc.

18. Drummers can take off their shirts or they can wear gloves, but not both.

19. Listen, either break it to your parents or we will: its rock 'n' roll, not a soccer game. They've gotta stop coming to your shows.

20. It's not a "showcase". It's a gig that doesn't pay.

21. No one cares that you have a web site.

22. Getting a tattoo is like sewing platform shoes to your feet.

23. Don't hire a publicist.

24. Playing in Portsmouth and Nashua doesn't mean you're on tour.

25. Don't join a cover band that plays Bush songs. In fact, don't join a cover band.

26. Although they come in different styles and colors, electric guitars all sound the same. Why do you keep changing them between songs?

27. Don't stop your set to ask that beers be brought up. That's what girlfriends/boyfriends are for.

28. If you use a smoke machine, your music stinks.

29. We can tell the difference between a professionally produced album cover and one you made with the iMac your mom got for Christmas.

30. Remember: if blues solos are so difficult, why can so many 16 year olds play them?

31. If you ever take a publicity photo, destroy it. You may never know where or when it will turn up.

32. Cut your hair, but do not shave your head.

33. Pierce your nose, but not your eyebrow.

34. Do not wear shorts onstage. Or a suit. Or a hat.

35. Rock oxymorons: "major label interest", "demo deal"," blues genius", "$500 guarantee", and "Fastball's second hit".

36. 3 things that are never coming back: a) gongs, b) headbands, and c) playing slide guitar with a beer bottle.

Word Of Wisdom For The Day

"The hiking journey of a thousand miles begins with a broken fan belt and a leaky tire."

Thanks, All You Monkey Maniacs!

Wow, thanks everyone. On yesterday's Soundclick chart (it's a daily tracking thing) "Lord Of All" (the one with Chad) came in at #9 on the CCM chart out of 6,358 songs and #43 on the overall pop chart (out of 52,887 songs).

"How Blessed We Are Through All The Pain" (the hymn with Lorie) came in #20 out of 3,004 "Christian Country" songs and #85 out of 23,848 on the overall country chart.

One of my other brand new ones, "My Lord And My God," had numbers (streams, downloads, votes) as high as those two but wasn't put on a chart because of Soundclick's rules limiting the number of songs per genre you can have on a chart at the same time.

Anyway, thanks. Stop by my site any time -- I'll add new songs now and then. soundclick.com/bobbygilles

Click here -- You know you wanna

SPECULATION CEASES -- BIG MUSIC ANNOUNCEMENT

Well, by now this isn't a surprise to those of you on my email list, but ...

After months of posting lyrics here and having to say, "Sorry I'm too stupid to figure out how to put an mp3 up online so you can hear it," I've done it! I've really done it! I found this company called "soundclick.com" that walked me through.

So now I have my own band page -- CLICK HERE and it will take you there, to soundclick.com/bobbygilles. Click on music and it will take you to 9 of my songs (including the one I posted the lyrics for last week on this blog). Listen to your heart's content. And vote "hot" instead of "flop" which helps the songs get promoted more within the "soundclick" universe.

One goal is to see if there are churches out there that would like to do these songs, which is why I'm just putting my hymn-based songs online. So hopefully if some of the songs go "up the charts" on soundclick, worship leaders/ pastors and what-have-you will see/hear them and decide to use them.

This is not a "record," mind you, made in an actual studio with musicians. These are just rough acoustic demos, so you have the opportunity to hear these songs in their "raw" state. Some of the songs feature vocals and occasional instrumental work of various friends, including fellow blogger Lorie King, who regularly harrasses me in the "Comment" section of this very blog.

Check them out and drop me a line to let me know what you think!

Big Announcement On The Way

Stay tuned, Dear Reader, for a big announcement on this site tomorrow morning -- something you can all be a part of, through the wonders of the internet.

"It's always darkest before the dawn. So if you're going to steal your neighbor's newspaper, that's the time to do it."

-- Proverb (um, not a Bible one, though)

Movie Quote Of The Day

From "Shaun Of The Dead" (a horror comedy about zombies).

Shaun:[in concerned tone] Mum, have you been bitten?
Barbara: No, but Philip has.
Shaun: Oh, OK.
Ed: [concerned] What's going on?
Shaun: We might have to kill my step-dad.
Ed: Oh, OK.

Is a singer who doesn't write songs a "real" artist?

Here is a debate that has come up in a couple recent conversations. If you'd like to weigh in, here is the question: is a singer who doesn't write his/her own songs a "real" artist?

My position, which surprises some people due to my love for good songwriting and singer-songwriters like Dylan, Waits, Webb, etc. is that a singer is a musician whose voice is his instrument, and we should no more judge a singer who performs other writer's music than we judge a bass player for playing other writer's music. Indeed, the rise of the singer-songwriter and the death of the full-time writer has, on the whole, been bad for music.

Ex: The lead singer of a band has a great voice but doesn't write much, so people think of him as a lesser artist. Meanwhile, even if he WAS the band's writer, his bass player, drummer, lead guitarist, etc. wouldn't be judged badly for playing his songs rather than their own. They'd be judged by how well they could play bass, drums, or guitar.

Dylan, Lennon and McCartney made it acceptable, then cool, then a near-necessity for "real artists" to record their own material. Interviews with them, particularly Dylan, indicate that they themselves didn't intend for this and don't think it's a particularly good trend, because the truth is great singers who can also write great songs are rare. I've heard many great singers performing their own material, only to come away feeling, "Is that the best you could do? Really? You couldn't find better songs than that? Like, if you had an average or worse voice (ala Dylan) or we just read your lyrics on paper, would they really hold up as well as the work of someone whose talent was primarily as a writer?"

I've heard people argue that a singer has to express what is in his heart, which is why he should do his own material. Nonsense. Especially in this age of easy communication, a good writer can get with a singer, interview him/her, ask "What's in your heart? Hopes, dreams, fears, passions, quirks. What do you want to express? Do you want to challenge people? Comfort them?" and the like, then write based on that. Later they can go over the material with the singer and modify/revise together. In this way, the singer may actually learn to be a good writer.

So having said all that, is a singer who can't write songs, or who leans on experienced writers, not a real artist? Or less of an artist, compared to singer-songwriters who come up with all their own material? What are your thoughts?