What criteria should we use to evaluate political candidates? Of all my professors over the years, probably the one I clashed with most was Dr. Robert A. “Bob” Dyal, from whom I took both Intro to Philosophy and Aesthetics (philosophy of art) at Kent State University around 1973-74. Dr. Dyal had been a peacemaker during the troubled times that had culminated in the killing of four students by members of the Ohio National Guard during a protest against President Richard Nixon having bombed Vietnam War combatants who had crossed over into Cambodia. Possibly in response to violent protests by students and others, Dr. Dyal talked about “institutional violence.” When people feel—or pretend to feel—that the “system” is against them and no one is listening to them, they may turn to violence. I appreciated the dry humor of the comedian who recently (March, 2024) warned that Stephen Colbert’s gushy treatment of Democrats might provoke a backlash from Hollywood. On the other side of the aisle, I wonder why some Trump supporters don’t acknowledge the irony of his selling Bibles while failing to have expressed a lot of humility and repentance for his sins that, in the words of that book, “go ahead of them,” even as those supporters condemn the sins of others whose sins “trail behind them” (1 Timothy 5:24).
I’ve seen a local newspaper print a picture of a congressional candidate who used a walking cane, and the next day print one of that candidate’s opponent walking briskly. As an individual with a walking disability, I was shocked at the obvious implication. I think President Franklin D. Roosevelt, whose polio severely impaired his mobility but who served longer than any other president, would have been shocked as well. Is it any surprise that some candidates who are, to all appearances, less qualified, nonetheless gain the support of voters who react against media blurring of the line between news reporting and “advocacy journalism,” which some might say is no journalism at all?
I once contacted a radio network regarding a reporter who had used the term “ridiculous” in what was billed as a news broadcast. I don’t mind editorializing, as long as it’s labeled as such, even if I may disagree with it. FWIW, I have never heard that reporter use that term again in a news story. Sometimes it works for a little wheel to squeak a little.
Am I Smarter Than a Cat?
Our Coda (“tail” in Italian, the musical language) is the sweetest kitty on the planet! Sometimes she’s almost too smart for her own good.
A while back, she picked up an infection in the big toe of her left front paw. The vet prescribed an antibiotic. I chose the liquid kind that you squirt into her mouth over the pill. The problem was that she at 12 years old (around 64 in human years, according to Natusan) is still quick on her feet, and I at 71 spend most of my time in a wheelchair. On top of that, she’s established thrones and hideouts at various places around the house. I tried to catch her twice a day, with mixed success. After a week, the infection was still there, and I opted for the pill.
Normally, as soon as I come in the door, I roll over to her feeding table and she jumps into my lap. I stroke her chin and head and use the “Coda Comb” from various angles to clear out the dead hair. There’s the obligatory belly rub. Then it’s time for her favorite toy: a length of piano wire with some twisted paper at the end that she bats around while lying on her back. I try to get it close to her mouth, but she hasn’t evolved opposable claws yet :) , so the process turns into an exercise session.
The medicine process, whether liquid or pill, isn’t fun for her at all. I’m guessing that her first months as literally an “alley cat” honed her survival skills, which compete with her love for “Daddy.” I’ve been able to grab her from her window seat, her bottom-shelf-of-the-clothes-rack hideaway, and even, like a nasty traitor, when she’s innocently cuddling next to me in bed. This evening I was able to sneak up to her as she dozed under the player piano. When I do catch her, I stroke her and talk to her before I do what I have to do.
As with many things in life, I think there may be a deeper meaning to the process of trying to give a kitty the medicine she needs. I was recently kicked out of a Facebook discussion group on atheism vs. theism. One of the group leaders had given me one hour to “prove” the Resurrection of Jesus. I did my best, referring to archeological findings of places and names that verified the gospel accounts, the empty tomb, the post-Resurrection appearances, the changed lives of the disciples, support from the letters of Paul, and the rapid spread of the gospel in multiple cultures. He responded, though, that what I had thought was evidence was, in his opinion, mere arguments. Later I asked him to define what he considered to be evidence. As I understand it, historical evidence is different from experimental evidence. I even invited him to pray a “skeptic’s prayer” as had Randy Stonehill, one of the founders of Jesus Music featured in the video “First Love: A Historic Gathering.” The next time I tried to participate in the discussion, I found that I had been blocked.
I’m a polio survivor. Although I’m not a hard-liner on the use of vaccines, I know that they can be life savers. I’ve never liked getting shots, and I can still remember the terror of having to give up my clothes for hospital clothes, waking up in misery and not being able to turn over in bed, being left by myself in painful therapy sessions, getting casts cut off by a noisy buzz saw, and more. It was for my good, but I didn’t understand that fact.
On this website under “Songs and Poems: Health,” you’ll find the lyrics to my song “Healthy As a Bear.” Under “Songs and Poems: Songs, Poems, Etc.,” you’ll find my poem “FREE.” I believe it’s “good medicine,” even though we “cats” aren’t always smart enough to realize it.
I’d welcome your thoughts at hope4you@centurytel.net.
It’s Friday, October 14, 2022.. I used to be a TV news hound. Recently I’ve been avoiding the legacy networks, but I gave them a try this morning. The congressional hearings on the Jan. 6 Capitol incident are wrapping up.
I haven’t been following the hearings, but I’m disappointed with what I’ve heard from both sides. I believe Donald Trump lost the 2020 election when he failed to listen even to his own advisors, much less his opposition; chose to rely on his intuition rather than studying the issues; showed arrogant disrespect for African countries, people with disabilities, veterans and others, and let his Twitter finger “do the talking” (to riff on an old Yellow Pages ad) instead of engaging in substantive dialogue and debate. Then he resorted to encouraging dissension and force.
Having said that, I would point out the hypocrisy of the other side. I remember shortly after Trump was elected, hearing “Not my president” and “Coup.” I remember thinking, “‘NBC’ must mean ‘Nothin’ But Coup’ and ABC apparently stands for ‘All ‘Bout Coup,’ but at least we have ‘CBS.’” :) Put that together with alleged censorship by big social media companies (which the Newshour on PBS referred to a few days ago as a “moderating force”); the issue of ballot drop boxes and mail-in ballots, dismissed by the courts but reportedly supported by video evidence and affidavits—and the influence of some public schools. I’m a substitute teacher. I recently asked a class of high school science students if they had heard of Bjorn Lomborg or Jordan Peterson. Only one had heard of Peterson, and none had heard of Lomborg. Here’s Jordan interviewing Bjorn and another gentleman: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LfefNZDlq6o
In 1983, I was on the Kickapoo Valley Recycling Committee along with Brian Rude, who would become a state representative, state senator, and senate president. The Environmental Protection Agency had created a bumper sticker that read, “Use It Again, Sam: Recycle.” I turned that slogan into a song and contacted the EPA. They said the slogan was in the public domain and gave me the go-ahead to publish the song. I’ve used it with many students, along with my song on the same subject “The Lone Recycler.” When I was Assistant Dean of Men at what is now Crown College during 1980-81, I helped form an organization called “CAPERS:” Conservation And Production of Energy Resources Society.” I’m in favor of preserving the environment, partly because I was told by a knowledgeable family member that the World Health Organization had stated that air pollution in North America had blown across the Pacific Ocean and contributed to drought and famine in Africa.
Yet if air pollution and global warming are being used to suppress energy production, industry and travel in the United States, while China and India have the vast majority of coal-fired power plants, and if Hunter Biden sits on the board of an energy company in China, and if China is dominating the US in investment in Africa and Latin America while bringing in their own workers rather than hiring locals and by taking natural resources such as the lithium in the Democratic Republic of Congo, and if China is trying to dominate East Asia while murdering their Uyghur people to sell their body parts, any potential conflict of interest by US leaders (the “Big Guy?”) could be a much bigger issue than the “insurrection” of Jan. 6.
I understand the argument that the US burned its prairie grass, decimated its trees, committed genocide against its indigenous people, enslaved black Americans., and allegedly taught China to smoke, and back in the mid-1800s worked with Great Britain and other Western powers to force opium onto the Chinese people (https://history.state.gov/milestones/1830-1860/china-1) Years ago I wrote a song about that grave injustice, entitled “Opium War,” and I alluded to the smoking issue in the song “We Three Queens” on my album “Censored by a Cigarette,” available on this website. One brave American, John Perkins, wrote about his involvement in the unjust economic colonization of developing countries. See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Confessions_of_an_Economic_Hit_Man,
https://www.amazon.com/New-Confessions-Economic-Hit-Man/dp/1626566747, and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btF6nKHo2i0.
Yet if President Biden and others are handcuffing US energy companies, spiking the price of gas and other forms of energy in the US, negatively impacting food production, and allowing Chinese “police” to have their way in some US cities https://nypost.com/2022/09/30/china-has-opened-police-stations-in-us-and-canada-to-monitor-chinese-citizens-report/
it would seem to me that Donald Trump should not be the only person being investigated for treasonous activities.
I’ve heard and agree with a call for the US and other “developed” countries to invest in the economic development of countries in Africa and Latin America without tying that investment to political servitude. The US should take the lead, but should not merely limit itself while allowing China to expand its influence—especially when US leaders are being accused of benefiting personally from their involvement with China.
On Monday, October 10, 2022, I received the following email from the American Center for Law and Justice (ACLJ):
“…The Deep State FBI interfered in the 2020 election.
“So what happened? A top FBI agent scuttled the FBI's investigation into Hunter Biden's laptop. At the same time, the FBI demanded that Facebook and Twitter suppress the Hunter Biden laptop story days before the election. Yet the story turned out to be true – all of it. That's real election interference….:
I know of two books dealing with the laptop issue. One is by the computer store owner to whom Biden took the machine: American Injustice: My Battle to Expose the Truth, by John Paul Mac Isaac. Here’s an interview with him: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mqPDeg3zgrU
That’s all for now. I welcome feedback at h o p e 4 y o u @ c e n t u r y t e l . n e t . If you don’t like what I’m saying, or even if you do, I may invite you to let me interview you on my YouTube channel “Live Armadillo,” also available here at www.LaCrossePiano.com.
It’s Saturday evening, August 6, 2022. Months ago I had the notion of trying to interview the candidates for Wisconsin’s Third District congressional seat. I attended a debate at UW-La Crosse among the then-five Democratic candidates. Each agreed to an interview. I also attempted to contact the Republican candidate, Derrick Van Orden. It’s taken a long time, but I’ve put together a set of questions for the five remaining candidates, and my questions have received high praise from Joe Heim, a retired veteran political science professor at UW-L. I’m sorry I didn’t get the questions out sooner. I can understand why only one candidate found time to respond. At least I feel good about trying!
I’m trying to turn more of my songs into music videos. I’m also working with Hometown Stream, a streaming service based in Tomah, and hope to have a channel there to go with their motor sport safety emphasis, classic movies and TV, and much more!
I’ve commented that I tune pianos to live, but I live for more. A song I wrote around 1975, “Worship Round,” goes:
May my life bring joy to God’s heart
and bring God’s heart to the world.
May each word and action impart
the glory due his Name.
Holy, holy, holy God.
Alleluia! Amen!
Stay tuned! Lots More to come !! !!!
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It’s Saturday morning, September 4, 2021. I’m home!
I’m thankful for Bethany St. Joe’s Care Center. They have a great system. They were there for me when I broke my wrist Dec. 29 of last year, and again when I broke my leg May 25 of this year (2021). They were sad to see me go, yet didn’t want me to come back as a resident—just as a musical performer.
The night before I left, the 88 year old lady from the next room rolled up to my door and asked me to play the keyboard. I played and sang “New York, New York,” which John Bernadot and I had done together many times, along with “Amazing Grace,” “Sentimental Journey,” “The Stars and Stripes Forever,” and more. As I did so, a 93 year old lady from the other end of the hall came by, as did the lady from across the hall. A nurse smiled and did a little dance as she walked by.
My wife’s daughter and granddaughter are tornados. They can clean and organize a room in no time flat. I must have caught it from them, because Thursday evening I cleaned and organized my kitchen, and yesterday I did the same to my dining room/office. My main job today is to learn my new tablet and recording software. A tech savvy friend will be stopping by to help me set up a home studio. I’ll be able to upload piano-vocal performances and hopefully more, and then turn around and record podcasts and interviews, with my bookshelves as a backdrop.
My website needs a lot of work, but I recently added a little material to the “Bard of Parodies” page.
Welcome, Friends! Whether you’re a family member, a former classmate, a caregiver, or someone with whom I’ve had a chance encounter, I’d like to introduce myself, share some of my experiences, and offer a few things I’ve written. In one sense I shouldn’t be here, since when I contracted polio over 68 years ago, the doctor said that if I lived I’d be a “vegetable” and a burden to my family. I’ve ben a burden to a lot of people, but my Dad said before he died over three years ago, I’ve had an amazing life. Frankly, my life continues to amaze me.
A Leg to Stand On
At this moment, on Father’s Day, June 20, 2021, I’m warming a bed at Bethany St. Joseph Care Center in La Crosse, Wisconsin. I’ll title today’s blog “A Leg to Stand On,” since this past May 25, I fell and broke my left leg. Both of my legs were partially paralyzed by my childhood illness. I came out of it with my left leg bearing most of my weight and my right leg able to operate the gas and brake on my van. As I was entering a store 3 1/2 weeks ago, the cuff fell off on one of my crutches. I broke the femur just above my left knee, and the break went down into the knee as well. La Crosse Mayo shipped me right over to Rochester, where they performed a successful operation the following day. A caregiver pointed out to me, though, that my body had been insulted right down to the bone, and multiple layers of my leg were sending distress messages to my brain.
As I sat on the blacktop outside a store with my leg in a crooked position, a wave of dismay ran over me. This was the leg that had poorer circulation, due to a major operation when I was six years old. The ilial-tibial band had begun to shorten, and I could walk only a few steps at a time. Picture around 119 kids running on the playground at the Angelo School near Sparta, Wisconsin, and one crawling. I went thru the knees of multiple pairs of jeans, until Mom sewed on patches, with red-thread X-es for style. I became a little fighter, and was aptly called worse things over the years.
A customer offered to help me up. I said, “No. Please call an ambulance.” The crew were wonderful. La Crosse Mayo immediately shipped me off to Rochester, since this break was not one they were equipped to repair. As had happened when I had broken my wrist five months earlier, they operated the following day, and a few days later sent me to Bethany St. Joe’s for therapy and recuperation.
I get depressed, alternating between pain medication and its side effects, and wanting to be back home tuning pianos and organizing the house. Yet I’m forced to be thankful. My crutch could have fallen apart in any of several truly dangerous locations—going down steps, crossing a street, tuning a piano far from home and late at night. Medicare and my supplemental insurance are a blessing! I expect to come out of here stronger than when I came in, due to the great therapy programs. Family, friends, colleagues and care providers have been great!
I’ve gained empathy for my wife, who experiences chronic pain. I’ve relied on old gospel songs running thru my head to distract my mind from the pain and discomfort. I’ve been able to share some of my ideas and writings with various people. I also looked up the old radio program Nightsounds on YouTube. I was privileged to hear and meet its host, trombonist and singer Bill Pearce, when I was at Wheaton College Graduate School in the late 1970s. Bill actually used my poem “Crazy” on one of his broadcasts. Each consists of 29 minutes of comfort, beautiful music, and encouragement.
I’ve been reaching out directly to God. The Hebrew prophet Isaiah prophesied regarding Jesus, over 500 years before his birth, that he would be “a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.” Isaiah goes on,
Surely he took up our pain
And bore our suffering,
Yet we considered him punished by God,
Stricken by him, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions,
He was crushed for our iniquities;
The punishment that brought us peace was on him,
And by his wounds we are healed….
As civil rights leader Rev. Jesse Jackson has said, Jesus chose to view the world from a manger looking up, rather than from a throne looking down. I would add that he also chose to look at me from a cross with love, compassion and forgiveness. I can look back at him with trust, gratitude, and hope for better days ahead!
Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
Making Hay (Farmer Helping Farmer)
Making Hay (Farmer Helping Farmer)
Words and music by Dan Eumurian
It was brother fighting brother; it tore apart our land.
Each one thought the other did not understand.
Six score and five years later, a new war came about.
It was farmer helping farmer; the enemy was drought.
A civil war started today.
An attack against a need was launched across the USA.
The colors didn’t matter—black and white or blue and gray.
They’re making no distinctions; they’re just making hay.
A regiment of tractors mowed rich alfalfa down.
In the Northern states the sun preserved; in the South it parched the ground.
In humble supplication the needy farmers prayed.
When relief came from the heavens, it began with bales of hay.
A civil war started today.
An attack against a need was launched across the USA.
The colors didn’t matter—black and white or blue and gray.
They’re making no distinctions; they’re just making hay.
The Lord had given bounty, plenty and to spare.
He allowed the need to happen and showed us how to share.
When the planes and trains and trucks invaded, not a shot was fired.
The volunteers provided what brotherhood required.
A civil war started today.
An attack against a need was launched across the USA.
The colors didn’t matter—black and white or blue and gray.
They’re making no distinctions; they’re just making hay. (Repeat)
It was people helping people; they’re just making hay.
© 1986, Come Thru Music Co., BMI
FREE
It's a solid Fact of history: Jesus lived, died, arose.
The Maker stepped into the game, Took our side against our foes.
Common sense demands it--The facts are clear to see.
Faith understands it And acts accordingly,
And we are FREE!
The Reason was forgiveness--The love that brings salvation.
He paid our sin taxes, Bought our justification.
With him when they nailed him To die upon the cross
Were all the ways we've failed him; He pulled victory out of loss,
And we are FREE!
All this doesn't matter Unless it moves the heart.
There must be an Encounter For the healing work to start--
The Holy Spirit's working To strike the waking chord,
Causing us to turn and follow, Calling on the Lord,
And we are FREE!
Then comes the Expression Of humble gratitude,
For reaching down to save us, To cleanse us by his blood.
We look for ways to thank him By serving him and others,
Praising him and sharing With our sisters and brothers,
And we are FREE!
Fact, Reason, Encounter, Expression, FREE!
Thanks to Dr. Charles M. Horne. © 2013, Dan Eumurian,
in “Shiny Tim and the Hum Bugs” musical play
www.PianosNSongs.com
hope4you@centurytel.net
Facebook: Dan Eumurian
In 1986, I had just published my Farm Country album. My friend John Pauley told me about the severe drought in nine southeastern states, and the haylift from fifteen northern states and provinces. At his suggestion, I wrote "Making Hay (Farmer Helping Farmer)." It's on my Farm Country CD and is available on MP-3.
God to Brother Taylor
God to Brother Taylor
Lyrics by Dan Eumurian
It was June the second, and the southern sky was losing light.
I had finished the dishes and was just about to call it a night,
When we heard a car in the driveway and a slamming door,
And neither Papa, Mama, brother or I could guess what for.
Then there were footsteps, banging at the back door, heavy breathing too,
And there was Brother Taylor looking like he’d seen a ghost or maybe two.
We invited him into the kitchen and gave him a chair,
And he burst right out, “I have never had such a scare!
I was dozing away and I had myself a terrible dream.
I saw Jesus himself, and his eyes almost made me scream.
I fell on my face; I could hardly breathe, much less talk,
Then felt a hand on my shoulder. He said, ‘Get up, brother. Let’s take a walk.’
“’You say that you know me, and you call yourself a man of the cloth.
But you don’t lift a finger for these working people. Where do you get off?
Don’t invite yourself to dinner. You are here to serve.
And you rat on kids who are talking. Where do you get the nerve?
Old Billie Joe is confused, and Bobbie is his closest friend,
So you get over to Choctaw Ridge with an ear to lend.’
“I got in my Ford and was crossing Tallahatchie Bridge,
When I saw a young man standing way too close to the edge.
He didn’t want to see me, but I gave ground and put my hands up,
And said, ‘Billie Joe, could we talk a bit before you jump?
I’m a sorry excuse for a preacher. I just want to show
That there is Someone who loves you more than you’ll ever know.
“’Bobbie’s Papa worships work, but a virus gonna bring him down.
Her brother has some things to learn before he leaves for town.
Those flowers you and she have been dropping show the Father’s care.
Not a sparrow will fall, but his mercy is gonna be there.
Papa’s cold, cold heart isn’t anything like that of the Lord.
I’m not gonna hurt you, but I’ve got an empty seat in my Ford.’
“Folks, I’m sorry to bother you; I’m sorry I did not wipe my feet.
I’ll get out of your way, and I don’t need nothing to eat.
Church this Sunday will be out of doors on Choctaw Ridge.
We’ll be collecting canned goods on the other end of Tallahatchie Bridge.
Jesus loves you. I love you. Sorry for the dirt on your rug,
But there’s a young man in my Ford who could really use your great big hug.”
Seek Peace lyrics
Seek Peace
Words and music by Dan Eumurian
REFRAIN
Seek Peace and pursue it,
Keep struggling thru it.
In Christ we can do it,
And let the world see the glory of God.
1. Seek Peace in your family,
With the ones who are closest to you,
'Cause if he can bring peace in our families,
There isn't anything that he can't do.
2. Seek Peace at the place you work,
Let the Lord make you faithful and true,
'Cause when your friends see your love and your diligence,
They'll be ready to listen to you.
3. Seek Peace with your neighbors,
Stop and chat a while and show them you care.
Let them see the way a Jesus disciple lives,
Let them know when they need you, you'll be there.
4. Seek Peace in your community,
Join the cancer drive or help with the tykes,
'Cause a cup of cold water and a helping hand
Are the kind of love that everyone likes.
5. Seek Peace with your government,
And submit to the law of the land.
Be informed on the issues, express yourself.
You've a solid rock on which to stand.
6. Seek Peace with the Father
Thru the blood of the Lamb.
Respond to the Spirit,
Praise God, the I AM.
© 1981, Dan Eumurian