My great grandparents are buried in Arlington National Cemetery. My Great Grandfather was one of Black Jack Pershing’s Own. My family is filled with many who served. Today in America we honor those who served and are gone. (Veteran’s Day is for the living, Memorial Day is for the dead.) Today…I remember my Great Grandparents.
So for two months I have managed Daily posts…I find myself presented with a problem. June and July are busy months…not the ability to sit in front of the computer kind of busy…but garden and being invited to cookout kind of busy. I have plans for the fall. Sketchtember. Inktober. This is probable. I am considering the Poetry Marathon in August. (that is 24 poems in 24 hours). But I don’t think I can do daily post in June. I will try to post some more art and poetry than I had been doing. And I will definitely do my weekly posts. I have so much more upcoming that I want to share. I just need to pull back slightly.
Lyrics
I got my first real six-string
Bought it at the five and dime
Played it ’til my fingers bled
Was the summer of ’69
Me and some guys from school
Had a band and we tried real hard
Jimmy quit and Jody got married
I should’ve known we’d never get far
Oh, when I look back now
That summer seemed to last forever
And if I had the choice
Yeah, I’d always wanna be there
Those were the best days of my life
Ain’t no use in complainin’
When you got a job to do
I spent my evenings down at the drive-in
And that’s when I met you, yeah!
Standin’ on your mama’s porch
You told me that you’d wait forever
Oh, and when you held my hand
I knew that it was now or never
Those were the best days of my life
Oh, yeah
Back in the summer of ’69, oh
Man, we were killin’ time
We were young and restless
We needed to unwind
I guess nothing can last forever
Forever, no
Yeah
And now the times are changin’
Look at everything that’s come and gone
Sometimes when I play that old six-string
I think about you, wonder what went wrong
Standin’ on your mama’s porch
You told me that it’d last forever
Oh, and when you held my hand
I knew that it was now or never
Those were the best days of my life
Oh, yeah
Back in the summer of ’69, uh-huh
It was the summer of ’69, oh, yeah
Me and my baby in ’69, oh, oh
It was the summer, summer, summer of ’69
(Yeah)
My 2 Cents –
Summer is just about here… and time is flying. I love this song and I felt like it is just the right way to end May.
Prompt: Turtle
And I Did it!!!! 30 days of Art. I actually managed to do it. (Yes I am aware of 31 days in May. I am not going to post an art tomorrow in honor of Memorial Day. )
Prompt: Shark
Prompt: Diver
The art world is abuzz at the moment over artificial intelligence (AI) taking our jobs.
If you have heard anything about the Hollywood/Writers’ Guild of America (WGA) writers’ strike (here, the term “Hollywood” refers to the whole of the filmed media industry, not the city proper) and half of that strike is over the prospect of losing jobs to AI content creation. The idea, obviously, is that studios can use AI to write scripts and will no longer need to pay a dozen writers to keep a show running indefinitely.
The flaw in that logic is what happened the last time the WGA went on strike (2017). That strike led to the insurgence of reality television as well as the worst season of television in recent memory. A lot of people cite the third season of Heroes that came out of that mess as one striking example of what happens…
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Prompt: Fish
Pattimouse 