Can I be recreated in a computer?

/in /by

As Labor Day passes by this is the first one that I actually recall being on strike on the day we acknowledge the contributions of American workers.

I am part of the film and television industry and earlier this year, the screenwriters went on strike, and shortly thereafter the actors followed suit.

While I am sure there are many intricate elements to the negotiations with the producers, ultimately, I think on all fronts the impact of artificial intelligence is what will hold the members of SAG-AFTRA and other industry unions in negotiations for the indefinite future.

As I understand, with current technology, basically, writers, and we actors may become obsolete and AI can take the basics of writing stories, our vocal patterns and our facial and body movements and can basically recreate all of the talents in a box.

This may be a simplistic view, but the future of what that looks like and its impact on the worker are far reaching.

While I am sure many see Hollywood’s absence from creating new television shows and films as a relief, there are good people in the industry who create positive and uplifting content who now not creating also.

I imagine, AI and robotics will continue to touch every imaginable job across our country in the coming months and years.

While the genie in many respects is already out of the bottle, we the workers of America, must be mindful to return and create opportunities for our selves and others in our home communities.

We may have to start thinking of the models used by our ancestors when every town required at least one person to have a particular skill to meet the needs of the residents and make the products we need.

I have a feeling, we will not be able to depend upon these AI and robots to look after our interests and create what is best for us.

Those who have let the critters into your homes through various devices, you may want to rethink that.

While it may seem convenient, is it in your best interest?

That answer is still far into the future when we find out who exactly is listening and collecting the data and for what ultimate purpose.

Being far removed from the mainstream of production, I am picketing, but only in my mind. Like many of my relatives have through the years as their unions have went on strike, we must stick together to make sure we do not lose the world we depend upon and love.

Spending until it goes out of style

/in /by

It is only through paying attention that we can save our hometowns.

In big cities, its often difficult to understand who does what, and
how they are spending our money.

In a small town though, it’s your city council that is responsible
for deciding what is spent annually within its budget, or bi-weekly
if the expenditure is unanticipated or requires an additional
approval through the bid processes required in your city.

It is your money they are spending and often we don’t even think
about the fact that by our vote we are putting people, we wouldn’t
even allow to balance our checkbooks in charge of millions of dollars
in cash and multi-millions in infrastructure that belong to us.

On average, most councils meet twice monthly. Since the advent of
social media, many share their meetings on some platform so you
don’t even have to leave your home to know what they are doing.

Did you ever take the time to see how they are spending your money?

Is there some pet project that one or several of your elected
officials decided is more important than providing the basic services
that cities are suppose to provide.

In a time when most cannot afford to put food on the table and gas in
the tank, communities are often spending rather than cutting back.

The same can be said in a much larger scale about counties.

We all get wrapped up in our own lives trying to care for family,
keep a business going, or simply working. But if our local
governments are taking money from us and wasting it, its our own
fault for not holding our council people accountable.

I know I have recently realized funds being wasted in my hometown and
it made so mad I couldn’t hold in my frustration.

What can you do. Well in most cities this is an election year. Mayors
and council people will be hitting doors, doing gatherings to get you
to vote for them. Ask them questions, but most of all be equipped
with facts about the waste and let them know you will not support
them if they are not willing to change direction in spending
policies.

Every thing is going up, but at the same time, cities can cut back
just like we are having to do.

That means cutting back on services and eliminating the frills in
your community. If its good enough for our household, the same should
be true for our town.

Now, I can just hear every excuse that they might give as why they
cannot cut back.

I can also hear all the reasons in my head why I can’t vote for
them.

Don’t forget herstory

/in /by

Sometimes you just got to be hit on the head with a sledge hammer, a
five iron or an iron skillet to realize something that has been
staring you in the face all your life.

I recently went to a One Book One Community event in my hometown
where we welcomed a Georgia author who has seen great success with
her books. Kimberly Brock’s latest and the focus of the event is
“The Lost Book of Eleanor Dare.” The story is a fictionalized
account relating to the descendants of the Lost Colony of Roanoke.

In her lecture, I heard her note how she had wondered what were the
stories of the women. Then it hit me, that we generally know the
“his”tory but the “her”story often dies off within a
generation or two of the lady who lived it.

Coming from a family a very strong women, their stories permeated my
childhood. My grandmother, my mother and even the mothers back for a
few greats left pieces of themselves in our family lore.

I recently met someone at a community gathering, they asked who was
my grandmother. When I said, they replied, “I remember her very
well. When I was a boy, she impressed me because she could drive
cattle like any man in the valley.” I had never thought of her
driving cattle. I should have but it just didn’t dawn on me. They
had to get from mountain grazing to valley grazing some how.

That was part of her story, she never shared with me.

I began thinking about the generations of women whose stories were
lost to me except in the names and dates of she and her children.

Now, I am blessed to have several lines which include some pretty
illustrious folks up there on that tree. If the grandmother, aunt or
cousin managed to make a mark on their world then elements of her
story survive in the written history of their country. Many of those
ladies may have had their stories become more fable than history. The
famed Lady Godiva who rode on horseback supposedly in her where with
all, was one of my grandmothers. I had a grandmother Isabella of
France who was credited for overthrowing a king – Edward II. Of
course, there were probably a few of those truth be known, especially
when the king was their not-so-loving husband.

My grandmother Margaret Tudor, who ran Scotland after the death of
her husband King James IV died and struggled against some strong
noble chieftains.

These are a handful who I am blessed to be able to learn a bit about
their lives because fate placed them in a position which made their
lives important because of the man that was their father, their
husband or their son. The oldest image I have of a woman in the tree
dates to Rome, 120 BC, when my grandmother Aurelia managed to birth a
boy who would be Julius Caesar. So, historians managed to write a few
detailed paragraphs about her.

Jumping forward, a handful of grandmothers, aunts and female cousins
managed to get on notable lists among our countries first settlers
but little is known about their specific lives other than their
arrivals in Plymouth on the Mayflower, or Jamestown on another ship.

There is a big dark hole in the herstory of the lives they lived.
Sadly, I fear even though we put much of our story out for the world
to see through social media. I fear that one day that resource will
not be as reliable as the written word once was, if anything was
written.

Don’t let someone have to hit you over the head with something
heavy, take the time to write her story while she is here to tell it.
Or record those she knows about the generation before. Write your own
story too. In my case, a few of those stories in my case can be found
in the book “A Mountain Pearl” which highlights some stories
about my mother and grandmother in Appalachia.

What we do may seem mundane, but to future generations, they might be
amazed, just like I was to think of my dear grandmother driving
cattle like a drover.

Use the day

/in /by

As I awake, I turn off the alarm, I turn and plant my two feet firmly
upon the floor.

It is another day, I thank the Lord for another chance to serve Him.

This day will be a blessing to someone, maybe God will use me to me a
tool in that blessing.
If not, then it is still a chance for me to be blessed a I serve.

I rise and after getting ready, I begin my work as everyone does to
put food on the table.

No matter what may be your vocation in life, along your path someone
will cross your way that needs some inspiration.

Life is weighing them down.

There bills are too high; their job is filled with stress; their
family is seeking respite from all that ails them.

How can you make a difference?

Just listen. If someone complains in passing, take a moment, ask them
about what they said.

If they truly need to express what’s bothering them, they will, and
you will have the chance to hear, and if its possible respond in a
comforting way. If there is nothing God inspires you to say, or you
have no avenue of solution for their situation, then you just need to
say five words: May I pray with you?

God will give you the words to say to Him. By saying them, you will
not only uplift the need of the person you are with, but also your
own Spirit will rise in saying them.

You can both then move further along the path God has set you upon.

Let’s say you are not blessed with the ability to pray in public.

Do you know someone that can? In hearing the description of their
problem, did a person or entity you know pop into your head? That may
be a sign that you are to pass this person’s name along to another
or send them to someone else for encouragement.

Sometimes we have within us what is needed, sometimes we are simply
just the road map that shows them the next turn.

There are always bumps in every road and pot holes that need filling.
Perhaps you are meant to be there to smooth the road up a bit so
people’s system is not shocked as badly.

So, today as you plant your feet on the floor, equip you mind and
body to be a conduit for the encouragement you are capable of sharing
with whomever God sends your way.

Change your community for the better

/in /by

Across our country we are coming to the time when cities will host elections for the council members and mayors.

Often, as Americans, we look towards the big races taking folks to Washington or the state capitols around the country but we forget about those positions that are closest to us. We forget those that really have the greatest impact on our daily lives – those who run our cities, counties and school systems.

They collect and spend money that we actually see as we drive down our streets or walk along our sidewalks. When we turn on our faucets or flush our toilets, they are often responsible for delivering those services.

They hire the men who dig in the ground and install the pipes and make sure they keep flowing.

They hire the folks who run the water and waste water treatment plants.

The trash trucks which roll by our houses, they often buy them and employ those working to use them.

The police, fire and ambulances that respond to our emergency calls, they are the ones that spend our money to buy them, employ and train those coming to help.

The school buses, the teachers, the principals, the schools, the football and baseball fields, they are the ones that buy or build them for us and decide about what our children are taught and do in those places.

They build the parks and recreation facilities with our money and then decide whether to charge us to use them.

In odd years, we are mainly dealing with city officials, but they sometimes run the schools in their communities.

Ultimately, the men or women that you choose to run your city or your town control millions of dollars. They decide whether they will tax you more or charge you more for services. They decide how the money is spent. Are they spending it on things you need or pet projects to feather their credits for a higher elected goals?

Friends, I urge you to wake up and pay attention to who you are electing to run your lives. They are not always what they appear to be or what they say they are.

If you are not pleased with the ways things are going in your town. Step up and run for an office. At least attend your council meetings and share your opinions on the topics that are important to you.

If we do not make the effort to create the communities we want to live in, then we and our families will be the worse for it.

Please pay attention to your city and town council elections. Just because someone has been in office doesn’t mean they are the best person for the job. There are many who serve just because no one else better is willing to run and endure the slings and arrows of public life.

I have been there. I have served as an elected council member. You can too, that is, if you want to improve where you call home.

 It’s hot, I’m hot, you hot?

/in /by

I pedaled as hard as I could up the hill. I was headed to my best
friends house hoping to get a group together to head to the pool.
I wasn’t much of a swimmer but in the heat of the summer, spending
some time there on a hot day broke up the heat.
As long as you were in the water you were cool. The only thing that
was hot was the cement when you got out and walked in your bare feet.
It made a huge difference on those long summer days. We were too far
to bike to the pool, so we had to convince an adult to drive and drop
us off or go swimming themselves.
Usually, we could find someone to take; it was harder to get a ride
back. No one wanted to haul wet kids in their cars. Especially, if
the car they drove had cloth seats in it. Sometimes you got lucky and
found someone with vinyl seats or simply a pickup truck, so we could
all just climb in and sit in the bed. There were none of those pesky
rules about car seats and such back then.
As I mentioned, I wasn’t much on swimming but I had learned all the
basic strokes and enjoyed it to keep cool. It took me a few summers
to work up to it but eventually I got brave enough to climb the high
dive and go in. The short dive was never a problem. Heights were not
my thing. The diving board with water under it wasn’t that scary, I
think I was more afraid of doing a belly flop at that distance. It
not only hurt pretty badly. I know from experience. But you would get
a pretty good teasing from everyone.
I had enough of that without doing anything!
Anyway, the pool was a respite from long days out in the heat riding
the roads on my bike, playing hard in someone’s yard, or playing
board games while sitting in someone’s floor. Of course, no one had
air conditioning, so being outside after a certain time of the day
was actually better than being inside. You found a shady spot and
hoped for a breeze if you got too hot.
We often played games in the woods. The tree cover generally brought
the heat down by about 10 degrees or more. So, we built a lot of
forts and had a lot of imaginary battles.
About 3:30 in the afternoon, we would hear the sounds of music coming
from the ice cream truck, and if we managed to save up enough we
would line up for some frozen treat that made the day. They didn’t
last long. It lasted just enough time without melting to make it
worthwhile. The frozen cone dipped in chocolate with nuts was a
favorite or sometimes the push up. orange sherbet.
If we did get to go home at some point, we would run for the kitchen
open the refrigerator and stand there letting the cool air flow
around us. Of course, that always got the admonishment of my mother
if she caught me. But it was worth it some of the time.
The heat reminds of those days. Maybe not fondly, but I look back
with a since of nostalgia that does cause me to long a bit for those
times again.
I have however figured out how to reduce those urges and it seems to
work. I turn off my air conditioning for a couple of hours and go
open the refrigerator door and look longingly inside feeling the cool
air pour out around me.
It’s not quite the same without my mother’s raised voice coming
from the other room, but it does ease the nostalgia just a bit.

What is the depth of hope?

/in /by

Have you ever sought a particular outcome in any particular situation?
Perhaps you have a dream job that you are working to reach. You have studied, gotten the education required. Then applied and achieved an interview and are awaiting a response.
You are hopeful.
The doctors have said you are facing a tough battle ahead to regain your health after coming down with an unexpected affliction. You follow their guidance, change your habits, eat better, exercise, and follow the medical regimen.
You are improving and await a new prognosis from your doctor.
You are hopeful.
Your mind and body is troubled by an addiction. You try to stop using. You go to counseling and see progress. Then when you find yourself weak you use again. You find yourself in the depths of despair for failing once again. You start over once again.
You are hopeful.
You’ve met someone new; your heart flutters and beats faster. Your mind desires a chance for what you believe may be love. They like you back. You go out on a date and things seem promising.
You are hopeful.
You are a boy who wishes to please his father. He wants a baseball star. You try to pitch and you have no power or control. You try to hit but you miss every time. But you desire is to make your father proud. So, you keep trying.
You are hopeful.
Within your soul you can tap into the source of eternal hope. It will sustain you in the darkest or brightest times. The hope can uplift others who cross your path. What is the source? God blessed each of us with the ability to find the hope and tap into it by asking Jesus into our lives. That hope may not allow us to achieve our dream but it will help us no matter the result of our attempting to reach it.

Chuck Wagon Gang rides still 

/in /by

     From my earliest memories of music emanating from our mahogany cabinet phonograph, there was always an album or two from one of gospel music’s longest running acts – the Chuck Wagon Gang. Their sound and history were unique; growing in much the same way other acts did from the Depression era, radio stations, churches, schoolhouses, county fairs and everything in between. The group originally made up of members of the Texas Carter family, not the Appalachian one that went by that name, although Dad Carter was from Kentucky.
     The group has seen many personnel changes over the years — its sound and devotion to old-fashioned gospel has remained much the same. I was privileged as I came up in gospel music to appear with members of the original group as well as subsequent configurations. It was always a joy to share the stage with them, no matter when, where or who.
     Their greatest significance is that the band provides an important link between country music and traditional sacred songs of the South. This music has moved Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, Charlie Daniels, and generations of gospel singers and open-eared listeners. For more than 80 years, the Chuck Wagon Gang has offered hope and harmony, faith and family and is now in its third generation.
     Their latest release Come Go with Me is all new for Mountain Home Music Company and it features a variety of both old and new songs all bearing the signature sound that has sustained the group for an unprecedented career that’s now lasted nearly 90 years.
     Produced by Jeremy Stephens, leader of the popular bluegrass revivalist band, High Fidelity, and a former member of the Chuck Wagon Gang himself, Come Go With Me makes a compelling case for the timelessness of the group’s sound.

     “I have loved the Chuck Wagon Gang since my early teens when I raided my grandparents’ LPs and found several CWG records,” Stephen said. “I was so blessed to play guitar and sing with them for 6 years prior to beginning to tour with my own group, High Fidelity, and working for Jesse McReynolds, but the biggest honor was being asked to produce their latest album. It was so special to be able to take the direction that the group wanted to go with the album while still remaining true to the original stylings that the Chuck Wagon Gang is so well known for. “
     Indeed, at a time when the listening audience’s appetite for the down-to-earth resonance of acoustic sounds, the sturdy simplicity of traditional styles and the abiding warmth of sincere gospel sentiments has never been larger, the elemental approach embodied in this down-to-earth yet well-crafted collection has never been more appealing.  
     With Stephens on board not only as producer, but also as instrumentalist alongside studio wizard David Johnson and award-winning bassist Mike Bub, they serve up a set that embraces continuity through a seamless blend of material that, whether old or new, sounds tailor-made for their old-school approach.
     Bookended by new songs — the closing “Our Sins Are Washed Away” even comes straight from the pen of the group’s leader, Shaye Smith — the Chuck Wagon Gang visit classics like “I Dreamed About Heaven Last Night” and Dottie Rambo’s thoughtful “For What Earthly Reason” and recent arrivals like “The Mighty Word of God” and the bluegrass-flavored “I Will Not Cry Today,” presenting each in an arrangement that faithfully reflects the essence of the sound first brought to the world three generations ago, yet infuses it with new energy.  
“We have an interesting variety of selections on Come Go With Me,” Smith said. “Maybe for the first time ever, there are as many brand new songs as recognizable favorites. But even these old favorites are new for the gang. I believe there is something for everyone within this album and we’ve been anticipating its release with great excitement!”
Learn more about the Chuck Wagon Gang by visiting https://thechuckwagongang.net/.

A bluegrass era nearing its end

/in /by

When I reflect upon my life, some of my greatest joy came upon the grounds and on stages of bluegrass festivals across the country.
My youthful days brought a desire to throw an instrument in the car, a tent, sleeping bag and enough clothes and food to get by while I took in day and evening shows and late night jam sessions.
The people attending, the performers became my family. I once compared the experience to living in Mayberry. We had a small town that each weekend moved to a new location with many of the same lovable characters making up our world.
All we did circled around a group of established and much loved performers whose talents surpassed all we knew and who could keep us mesmerized again and again as they flowed onto the stage and sang the songs that touched our hearts. The first generation of those performers were the kings and queens of our world. As fans we shared their lives in ways no other music industry ever afforded. We actually came to know them, their families, we often shared meals and laughed around the record tables to endless stories.
Most of that first generation has stepped off the stage. In recent weeks, the heavenly bluegrass band expanded by two more mandolin players and lead singers whose sound and songs were known around the world. First, Jesse McReynolds of Jim & Jesse and the Virginia Boys. His career spanned from 1947 until 2023. He and his late brother Jim joined the Grand Ole Opry in 1964. Their career was infused by breaking musical barriers and taking their unique bluegrass style across genres. They turned heads in the 1960s dedicating an entire album to the songs of Chuck Berry in bluegrass style. Johnny B. Goode became a career-long fan favorite. Jesse could as easily play with a Rock and Roll star as a Jazz virtuoso innovating his instrument with two distinct approaches including split-stringing and cross-picking. Both of which made him the envy of every player and an inspiration for generations.
He and his brother created bluegrass hits such as “Cotton Mill Man,” “Paradise,” “Sweet Little Miss Blue Eyes,” “Hard Hearted,” “Pardon Me,” “Border Ride” while adding hundreds of songs to America’s music catalog.
Of course, with their distinguished career came International Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame induction, America’s highest musical award – National Heritage Fellowship, Grammy nominations, and countless other awards.
I first saw them as a youth at one of those festivals, and I was blessed to have them both a mentors in my life and career. I appeared both as a Virginia Boy and as a guest star on the Jim and Jesse Show. I slept in their bus and Jesse’s house many times. No bluegrass legend invested more in my life than Jesse. He and Jim were my family, so with Jesse’s passing I lost an adopted father in many respects. But the world lost a vital link to a generation of music performance which will never be again.
Another legendary figure, who I was also blessed to be friends with who died four days after Jesse was Bobby Osborne. Beginning as part of the Hall of Fame Lonesome Pine Fiddlers in 1949, he and his brother Sonny – The Osborne Brothers, also joined the Opry in 1964. Before that they performed with the Stanley Brothers, Red Allen, Jimmy Martin and others. Their vocal blends combined with the coordination of their banjo and mandolin talents endeared them to worldwide audiences. Their albums were an annual feast of what was going to be the next hot song heard in jam sessions. On stage, they were unmatched in their ability to entertain. If you are from America, you probably heard their big hit “Rocky Top,” which they popularized. Bobby could sing “Ruby, Are You Made At Your Man” with a voice so high he could catch the birds in flight above the stage he was singing upon. They also added hundreds of stylistic performances to the American songbook – “Big Spike Hammer,” “I’ll Be Alright Tomorrow,” “Up This Heal and Down,” “Pain In My Heart,” “Me and My Old Banjo” and others.
They also were International Bluegrass Hall of Fame inductees. Among their awards were major ones in both country and bluegrass. And they also received the National Heritage Fellowship Award. I was honored to feature The Osborne Brothers on shows I produced. I will add my sorrow among the many fans who will miss Bobby. There are only a handful of the first generation performers remaining. These were the last two among the Opry family, which added to their legacy. I wish I could once again throw my fiddle in the back of the station wagon and head down some old dirt road to a pasture by a creek where in front of a stage thousands were gathered around to hear Jim & Jesse and the Osborne Brothers and so many other legends once more. We sure were blessed to know them!

The closet door seems smaller

/in /by

I don’t know about you, but I am sure aliens have been in my closet.
No other explanation can be conducive to my temperamental feelings.
I went in the other day preparing for a trip. I began by pulling out a few of my favorite standbys and when I slipped them on and they no longer went around my waist.
I figure some alien beamed in, liked them, wore them to some event, then had them dry cleaned before returning them to their usual hanging place. It must have been the dry cleaning that shrunk the pants. I can’t understand why the jacket remained the same size.
When thinking of an alternative explanation, perhaps my leprechauns, who store all the family gold that I have yet to find, decided to practice tailoring.
They have been cutting down my best pieces using the excess materials for outfits of their own.
They don’t always wear green you know. That’s just a legend for the March 17th.
They sew so well, they make it look just like when it was made but it’s just smaller.
I know, I know, aliens, leprechauns, seem a bit far-fetched.
But if it isn’t those two things that would mean my waist is bigger than it was just a few months ago when I wore them last.
I have continued my regular routine
That may be possible. Possibly, I have taken something that makes me retain water.
I know I am not eating anymore than usual – my usual two-to-three helpings at meals. I exaggerate their only one, just on big plates. Yeah, it must be retaining water. I can fix that by drinking more water so my body will release all it’s holding.
So, either it’s the aliens, the leprechauns, or my closet is full of water. Wait a minute that would make it a water closet, oops, that’s a whole ‘nother room in the house. I guess I mean my body is full of water and maybe a little fat that settled in for a visit.
If it’s the third, I guess I will need to up my game a bit with some extra exercise, maybe I will look in to whatever will keep the aliens and leprechauns out of my closet, just in case it’s the first two.
I am to be back in those pieces again soon, so I hope the leprechauns didn’t cut too much out of them.