- Glenn Sonnenberg
Musings from the Bunker 4/25/20
Happy Saturday Friends!
Another week under our belts…
MUSIC FOR SATURDAY
For some reason I’ve been thinking about great rock musicians we have lost and recalled a “supergroup” put together by George Harrison in the late 80s called “The Traveling Wilburys.” It was an all-star lineup of Harrison, Roy Orbison, Tom Petty, Bob Dylan, and Jeff Lynne (of Electric Light Orchestra). Several of their songs made it on the charts. Their most famous was a song with some lyrics that resonate today. It’s called “Handle Me With Care.” Its first lyric is “I’m so tired of being lonely…” Certainly worth a listen and a great opportunity to see these iconic performers playing together:
While thinking about George Harrison and other great artists who died too young, here is Billy Preston (remember “Nothing from Nothing Leaves Nothing”?) covering “My Sweet Lord” in concert: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1EORbL8N-R8
PABLO NERUDA ON QUIET
This weekend’s poetry, from Nobel Prize winning Chilean poet and diplomat Pablo Neruda:
KEEPING QUIET by Pablo Neruda
Now we will count to twelve and we will all keep still for once on the face of the earth, let’s not speak in any language; let’s stop for a second, and not move our arms so much. It would be an exotic moment without rush, without engines; we would all be together in a sudden strangeness. Fishermen in the cold sea would not harm whales and the man gathering salt would not look at his hurt hands. Those who prepare green wars, wars with gas, wars with fire, victories with no survivors, would put on clean clothes and walk about with their brothers in the shade, doing nothing. What I want should not be confused with total inactivity. Life is what it is about; I want no truck with death. If we were not so single-minded about keeping our lives moving, and for once could do nothing, perhaps a huge silence might interrupt this sadness of never understanding ourselves and of threatening ourselves with death. Perhaps the earth can teach us as when everything seems dead and later proves to be alive. Now I’ll count up to twelve and you keep quiet and I will go.
Happy weekend and Ramadan,
PS: And yes, yesterday’s poem was not written 100 years ago…or even 100 days ago!