PETER HIMMELMAN

I asked Water Baby to post lyrics to a song on her site. They come fromm the movie 'Juno' that she also has posted there and you can listen to them.
They remind me of one of my favorite little known Artsists, Peter Himmelman. He is very Jewish, from Minneapolis/St. Paul and writes a terrific song both Musically and in verse.

The Lyrics below are from the first of a trio of Albums he did in the early 90's. Through the three Albums you can hear the sound and message evolve and refine...they culminate in a very good album called "Skin"from 1994.
'Skin" is a concept album the way "Dark Side of the Moon" or "Tommy" are. It tells a story from start to finish.

I first heard it in its entirety on the Radio and recorded it. A few years later, I picked up the CD and found Himmelman's explanation of the concept in the liner notes.
They were unnecessary as I understood the concept from the first time I heard it.
That is how his music and lyrics are. Very simple, very nice. Clean.
For several years I could scarce but keep from cryin' at some point while playing it through.

This is from the first of the three albums and Water Babys song reminded me of this one.

This song has always reminded me of my good friends Kem and Alana. They seem to be on a mission, committed and resolved to take care of each other.


Mission Of My Soul
From the album "From Strength to Strength" (1991)

When you need me, I'll stand beside you
I'm there for you wherever you go
When you're hungry, I'll satisfy you
That's the mission of my soul

When you need confession, I'm there to listen
When you're crossing the ocean, I've got a boat to row
When you need attention, your audience won't be missing
That's the mission of my soul

When you're sleepy, I'll make your bed now
When you're unsure, I'm a gonna let you know
I’ll say, “Baby, don't trouble your head now.”
That's the mission of my soul

When you're making plans, and you need a partner
Baby I'm your man, just tell me when do we go
You be my flower, I'll be your gardener
That's the mission of my soul

FISHING REPORT #2

FROG JUICE

I went to Church Camp last week with my old friend Kem. We have been friends for 4 decades, but we are not as good of friends as we used to be....I stopped smokin' pot and he found Jesus Christ...
It bothers Kem a lot when I cuss...especially if I manage to drag his heavenly Father into the mix which I quite often do. I do try to watch my language around Kem. The main reason he wants me to go to Church Camp is so that I might find Jesus too..even while he smokes his joint...but the other reason he wants me there is so that I can help the youngsters catch some fish. I enjoy that immensely and that is why I go
This year I hoped my 16 year old son, Rip, might be of some help getting 12 6-8 year olds baited up and their poles in the water on the side of the bank and keeping their lines from becoming impossibly entangled, but Rip was more interested this year in collecting tiny frogs on the bank and putting them in a Gatorade bottle.
They were a smarmy slimy mess in there and in the 100 degree heat I kept begging him to get rid of that bottle and give me a hand with all these kids.
It took about 30 minutes to get everyone baited and in the water.
One of the young-uns, Joshua "fit the Battle" I called him, looked up to me and says:
"Thanks Mr. Steve, You sure look hot"
'Thirsty too" I replied.
I was sweating like a Pig and I reached for my drink. My eyes were stinging as the sweat rolled into them and I pressed my lips to my once cool bottle of Gatorade.
I tilted my head back....
...As the first frog passed my tongue I knew there was something wrong. I froze in mid-gulp. There had been no Frogs in my Gatorade before and as the next Frog entered my mouth...
....I knew what was happening....I had accidently grabbed the Gatorade bottle Rip had been doing his little Biological Swamp Torture Experiment in... and now I had a mouthful of frogs in frog juice.
In front of God and Kem and 12 little Church camp Kids I spat the vile liquid out of my mouth and let loose with a
"GODDAMMIT"
that echoed up and down the Lake.
All heads turn to me, and up till now I have been the figure of charity and compassion and a mentor to some of the nicest little boys and girls you would ever want to meet and generally a good influence.
But I see Kem out of the corner of my eye and hear him whisper very loudly
"Steve, please, watch your mouth"
Well, that did it for me and I turned to him and said quite loudly
"KEM, WOULD YOU GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK, JUST ONE TIME?"
And all 12 of those kids just cracked up!!!

I owe Rip one... I do.... and I'm gonna get him good!

FISHERMANS LUCK

"the pleasantist thing in angling
is to see the fish on golden oar
shoot through the silver stream
and greedily devour the treacherous bait"

william shakespeare

I've got those Spring Fishin blues....

I think the Bard had done a little fishing himself ...he pretty well summed it up for us.

I tried to teach my good friend Kem how to fish with plastic worms. He really had no feel for fishing but loved to get out there. I had caught a couple of fish and kept giving him instructions on technique and what to watch for. There is an Art to Fishing, and especially with Artificial Lures. You have to make an inanimate object look alive.
I caught another fish...
He asked me to show him one more time and handed me his pole which was already casted out.

I start bumpin' ol' worm back in.
"One...two... three... little taps with the rodtip Kem,
then slowly lower the tip...reeling in tha slack slowly, keep the line a little taut...

"As the treacherous bait floats down , Kem,
Floats down, down, deeper into the lower stratas
Into the dark, dark as thy doubts , Kem
And Dark as thy Heart, Ol' Friend
Where the Moss and Mermaid hide
One... Two... Three..., Kem, lower away the bait
Seething into the yawning jaws abide and
Whirling Heart that steathily waits
Where Gods creatures chase and claw and fang each other,
Since the begining of Time
On all sides of the Universe and on both sides of land
All the while, Kem, you must BE the rodtip,
Be the tip of your rod, the rigging, the spar
Feeling, reeling for a slight change in tension
Feeling for the Murderous twitch, a jam or jar
The Death Stitch, mark well thy thread,
The poisonous pathways
That lay now woven in the watery woeful depths
For any unseemly movement,
Or abrupt commotion... "

It was about then that the Fish had heard about enough of me and came breeching into the Glorious light, the warm and pleasant sun, and all the delights of air and earth.

"GOT HIM" and I set the hook on a 5 pound bass.
I handed Kem the rod and he was looking at me like I was from outer space.


An hour later Kem wants to try something else. I suggest the weedless spoon, thinking that all that flash and action will at least keep Kem occupied.
Well I was wrong.
Kem worked that spoon like there was an old boot tied to the end of his line. When he casted , the lure would sail so high, almost out of sight, and when it smacked the water it was like a Six-Pound Shell had been launched, discharged from a Spanish Cannon on a Pirate Ship. After watching for a while I grabbed the rod out of his hand. I casted out and had that spoon dancing.

"Like this, Kem, you have to make it look alive and scared"
and then the water exploded and I caught an 8 pound bass, biggest Bass I ever caught

"Holy Shit, Steve, you are enough to piss off the Pope"
An hour later we went and got Kem some live worms and I put him on the end of the dock where he caught Bluegills all afternoon.

He was in heaven.



Heres a couple of guys that love to wet a hook...



They ought to be Keel-Hauled!