Happy New Year!

Let’s drink to the hard working people.
Let’s drink to the lowly of birth.
Raise your glass to the good and the evil.
Let’s drink to the salt of the earth.

Say a prayer for the common foot soldier;
Spare a thought for his back breaking work.
Say a prayer for his wife and his children
Who burn the fires and who still till the earth…

And when I search a faceless crowd,
A swirling mass of gray and black and white,
They don’t look real to me.
In fact, they look so strange.

Raise your glass to the hard working people.
Let’s drink to the uncounted heads.
Let’s think of the wavering millions
Who need leading but get gamblers instead.

Spare a thought for the stay-at-home voter
Empty eyes gaze at strange beauty shows
And a parade of the gray suited grafters…
A choice of cancer or polio…

Let’s drink to the hard working people.
Let’s drink to the salt of the earth.
Let’s drink to the two thousand million.
Let’s think of the humble of birth.

Here it comes…

You’re the kind of person you meet at certain
Dismal, dull affairs
Center of a crowd, talking much too loud
Running up and down the stairs

Well, it seems to me that you have seen
Too much in too few years
And though you try, you just can’t hide
Your eyes are edged with tears

You better stop, look around. Here it comes…

Decorations Of Red

I’ll have a blue Christmas, that’s certain. And when that blue heartache starts hurtin’, you’ll be doin’ all right with your Christmas of white. But I’ll have a blue, blue Christmas…

Don’t Think About It, You’ll Have A Panic Attack

“That’s why I can’t say enough times: whatever love you can get and give, whatever happiness you can filch or provide, every temporary measure of grace – whatever works. And don’t kid yourself, because it’s by no means up to your own human ingenuity. A bigger part of your existence is luck than you’d like to admit.”

TALES FROM NEWPORT!

Tonight’s episode: “A Winter’s Tale”

Woke up to beautiful snowy rooftops and a crisp cleanness to the air. The sun is beaming, the perfect blue sky is rolling with huge, cottony clouds, and the air is cold and sharp. Everything feels so immediate and alive. Days like this are custom made for me. I fucking LOVE winter.

Nothing weird nor ominous to report. No uncomfortable encounters nor bizarre human interactions needing commentary. Just a perfect, snowy day in Newport, KY. I hope all of your days are as fine as this one.

Amen

“And thou shalt go forth unto the brewer, and thou shalt drink deeply of the spirits of grapes and of wheat, until thy legs do get wobbly, and thy steps are unsure, and thou dost puke wicked hard in thy cart on the way home.” – Fermentations 24:7

Reverend Woodall wishes you all happy libations. As a matter of fact, I’ve got some spirits of grapes chilling in the fridge calling to me right now. Lambrusco doth bid me come, and I shall hearken. Follow in my footsteps, my children. I will show you the way.