Theo Love

Theo Love and the Frightened Canary

By George Gagliardi

It was Monday, late afternoon, about twilight. The sun was like a big orange ball, lazily but deliberately performing his daily disappearing act. There was a kind of nice, warm, amber blanket covering the city as the shadows made dark, jigsaw-puzzle patterns on the grey, stone faces of the skyscrapers.

Looking out my third-story window I could see the bright red blinkin’ neon “Repent or Die” sign high atop the Temple of Perpetual Guilt (and 24-hour bookstore).

Quite an operation, that place. I could tell you stories … and every one of them true.

You’d be surprised how many people wind up there. Why?

Because it gives them a chance to feel bad so they can feel good about feelin’ bad so they can feel good again … at least until their next visit.

You figure it out – but then again I’m not surprised by much in this crazy world, especially when it comes to religion. I’ve seen ’em come and I’ve seen ’em go, and let me tell you, people will do just about anything to discover the answer – whatever that means.

How do I know so much? It’s my business to know – I’m Theo Love, spiritual troubleshooter.

Like I said, nothing shakes me for very long, so when this lovely, lean blonde glided into my office, I took it in stride.

She took it in about two or three strides, but then I have a small office.

Let me describe her to you. She had a set of physical blueprints that would prompt Solomon to rewrite his song or at least add a sequel. One look at her up close and my brain was playin’ hopscotch with my libido. My sex drive was in fourth gear, and …

Well, you get the idea, don’t you?

After I stopped salivating and managed to slow my heartbeat down to normal, we talked a while. The more we talked, the more it became clear what was wrong. The girl was in trouble, “Big” trouble.

Seems someone was slowly but surely tryin’ to pull the plug on her self-image and he was usin’ the oldest trick in the book – The Put Up and Shut Up Scam.

Pretty simple, really. Some guy with a pickled set of presuppositions and a misguided mission convinces his victim that she’s bound by God to put up with his particular brand of spiritual mumbo-jumbo. Then gradually he gets her to begin believin’ that her place in matters of leadership is to simply shut up.

Poor kid, my heart went out to her, and I promised I’d do whatever I could to help her out. I meant it too.

She gave me a name, Rev. Billy Bob Coldheart. It wasn’t much of a lead, but at least it was a place to start.

As she got up to leave, I took her hand, looked deep into those beautiful “baby blues” and in my best Sir Galahad manner told her not to worry, that I’d take care of everything.

She was walkin’ out the door when I said it. Nothin’ planned, just a crazy kind of phrase that came to mind in that moment –

“He’s lookin’ at you, kid.” I’m not sure, but I think maybe she smiled … and so did I.

If Only We Had Known

 Isaac -- It was tax time in Bethlehem

We were busy as we had ever been

Naomi --Folks came from miles around

Descended on our quiet town

 Both  -- Not a single place, not a single room 

Could be found

Not even at our little crowded inn

I --They showed up at our door

Ragged, cold and poor

 N --I could see the girl, barely past her teens

Was with child and just about due

  I -- I felt bad for them, we both did

But what were we to do

There was no place to put them

There simply was no room

 Both --And we stood there, not quite willing to shut the door

Bewildered and confused

 I --Then mama said to me,

N --“What about the stable?”

I --“The stable? That dirty, smelly place”

N --“Well, it’s better than leaving them on the street”

I --I thought for a moment, “I guess you’re right

I have to agree, though it’s just a step above the street

If you ask me

N --“You kids wait here 

I’ll go fetch a blanket so at least you’ll have a bed”

 I --And I’ll put down some hay to soften the ground

It’s the least I can do so at least you can lay down

 N --And while you’re at it, clean out that trough

This mother may need it

 I --Clean out the trough, where the animal feed, it …

Then she gave me that look (Kathy give him that look)

Okay, okay, I’ll do what you ask

Together we got busy to see to our tasks

Both --Now let’s pause for a moment

For those who would judge us

I --“You should have saved a room for them”

 N --Assuming that we knew

Both --But we truly did know

We didn’t have a clue

So let us ask you friend

What would you have done,

If it was up to you?

(Sung)

If only we had known

They’d be coming to our inn

We would have done our very best

To treat them as our welcomed guest

The royal treatment, nothing less

We would have saved a room for them

If only we had seen

What the shepherds saw that night

Choirs of angels, dazzling lights

A glorious, breath taking sight

Just like some kind of wonderful heavenly dream

But we didn’t know, we could not see

We did not realize

This birth would be a Holy birth

The Blessed One, The promised King,

The Lord of life,

God’s tiny precious Son

Still we did what we could

We offered them a place

It’s wasn’t much at all

We’re both ashamed to say

But deep within our hearts

We believe, we pray

God understands

We were willing to care

And though a stable was no place for him

He truly honored us and blessed us

On that starry, magical, mid-winter night

In a manger there

O Holy Night

George Gagliardi, December, 2019

Easter 2019

Friends,

 Here is something a bit different for this Easter. I guess you could say it’s unapologetically religious because … well it is. I decided to go the route of creating a lyric that resembles some of the old gospel songs – hence the title. The reason – I felt led to write it that way. Now it’s true, for those of you who know me, that usually I’ll bend over backwards to avoid anything that sounds too churchy, lest it be dismissed as being just that. But you know, even some non-believers enjoy Hank Williams “I Saw the Light” so I figured I was on safe ground with this one. Now the music is not written yet but imagine the up beat sound of something like “I’ll Fly Away”. Anyway, hope you like it.

A New “Ole Time” Gospel Song—“I Believe It”

 We talk about resurrection

 ‘Bout comin’ back to life

 ‘Bout greetin’ a grand and glorious mornin’ 

  After a long and lonely, bitter night

  We talk about resurrection

 ‘Bout a man who was crucified

  And how God just raised him up again

  Our Savior, Jesus Christ

Chorus

And I believe it, man I believe it

Ask me why, I won’t hesitate

I believe it ‘cause of faith

I believe it, yes I believe it

I’d try and prove if I could

But even then wouldn’t do no good

Unless you truly understood

Some things are too true not to be good news

For those who need it

And we all need it

And I believe it, yes, I believe it

Bridge

I’m the first to say that to some this seems like a fairy tale

An act of wishful thinking, more or less

But I’ve seen God take a life that was dead

And turn that life around

‘Cause resurrection is what He does the best

Chorus

And I believe it, man I believe it

Ask me why, I won’t hesitate

I believe it ‘cause of faith

I believe it, yes I believe it

I’d try and prove if I could

But even then wouldn’t do no good

Unless you truly understood

Some things are too true not to be good news

For those who need it

And we all need it

And I believe it, yes, I believe it

George Gagliardi

Happy Easter, 2019

Ye Olde Annual Christmas Epistle … From Me

 I’d have to say that this year has been far from uneventful – maybe one event too many when it comes to health and such but two stints in my heart later and I’m still functioning. doing my musical routines, etc. Now I’m not back to 100% but thanks to 36 weeks of rehab, I’m on the mend.

    Still writing songs, playing piano, guitar, banjo (and a little bit of tenor sax – very little), working with some great Dallas musicians and volunteering three times a week at Presby Hospital (now known as Texas Health Resources Hospital). I liked Presby better, it was shorter to say. Wonder-filled times in that place -- happy to be able to play piano for the folks there.

 As for as Big News, let’s see … apart from health issues, I mean. Did a lot of traveling in the Fall – Grand Rapids to see Art Prize then in November a trip to Indianapolis to see my long time pal, Ashli Cartwright-Peak; later than month I was in Denver to have my annual Thanksgiving visit with Janice’ Moore and this month I’m off to New England to celebrate Christmas with The Duckett clan. And of course there’s my work with Kiddz on Stage I did in Winnsboro back in July and my work with Spotlight Players (formerly Jesters) here in Dallas. So I have plenty to keep me out of trouble – not that it does – but I have a truly rich, full life with tons of blessings to be thankful for – including you my dear friends. Now let’s move onward to this year’s musing.

Merry Christmas, World

  All right everybody who wants to emphasize death and destruction, heartache and heartbreak plus misery and general unhappiness at Christmas time raise your hand. … Me neither. Oh there might be some out there but not too many of you, those who read my meanderings year after year, would qualify for that group. Fact is most of us don’t want to “go there”--  as  people are inclined to say these days. Of course we don’t have to “go there”, mainly because that sort of news is here, it’s all around us, everyday.  We have had our fair share of Bad News for the year. Enough already.

   Well I’ve got Good News for you – it’s called Christmas. And it’s all about Good News. Now I will hasten to add that I intentionally look forward to being reminded of the promise and possibility of the season. Hence the following bit of rhythm and rhyme.

Where did Hollywood get the idea

That Christmas time is a perfect time

For celebrating goodness?

What made them decide that happy endings

Would be prime ingredients for a hit flick?

That people getting together and loving each other

Like an idealized family

Would sell tickets and melt hearts and

Make us warm and fuzzy down deep

They’ve learned to package magic and miracles

Whether in Bedford Falls or on 34^th Street

While some can’t abide such so called treacle

Indeed there’s a whole lot of people

Like me, who think peddling hope

And the idea that dreams can come true

Is one of the nicer notions to present to the world

But where on earth did they get that idea?

Where on earth?  How about Bethlehem?

Isn’t there something touching, you might even say “feel good” about that story

When you truly stop and ignore all the nay-sayers

All the folks who say,”Man, that sort of make believe is way out of style”

When you get past all that, doesn’t the story still bring an almost childlike smile to our face …

A baby, a manger, Angels singing Gloria

Shepherds in the fields, Wise men with treasures

Even Hollywood can’t top that for an epic event

And don’t forget the bright shining star overhead

The one that led the seekers to find the Christ child

That’s the stuff of miracles and if I may permitted so say so

Magical moments to hold close on a cold winter night

When darkness is far too real

And there seems to be very little light

But at least enough to light our way

To take a step and then another

Believing as best we can

Trying to understand who we are

Remembering once more

That once upon time

There was a birth and it was no fairy tale

It was a night of magic and miracles

So big, so fantastic even Cecil B.

Couldn’t have captured it

Yet so unassuming, so fraught with something as simple and tender

As a young couple’s love for their newborn

And the most miraculous of all

Here was God’s way of saying to all of us --

“I Give you the most precious gift

Anyone has ever given

Here is my beloved son, Jesus …

Merry Christmas, World”

Merry Christmas and all the best to you

George Gagliardi, December, 2018

Easter 2018

Easter 2018

  I’m sure I’m not the only who noticed that Easter and April Fool’s day fall on the same day this year. So in the spirit of the two days coming together, as it were, I’ve concocted something a bit different for this year’s contribution. It’s part whimsy, part nonsense and maybe a part … worth pondering. I’ve entitled this bit of  “word – processing” “Interview with The Easter Bunny” or “Session at Pete’s Hutch”. (With a nod to Henry Mancini)

               Scene – A well appointed study, with all the accoutrements that befits a successful individual -- Nothing shabby about these surroundings, to be sure. My interview subject is seated behind the large, impressive solid mahogany desk. Well dressed in his casual best, smoking a pipe, very much at home in this setting – almost reminding one of a kind of  … (wait for it) “Playboy” bunny, if you will. (Or maybe not.)

         

         Mr.Gee – So, Mister Cottontail or would you rather I address you as the Easter Bunny.

         Peter – You can just call me Pete – no need for formalities when I’m not out on a gig.

        Mr.Gee – Okay, Pete. Tell me, what’s it like to be the Easter Bunny. To have kids all excited about seeing you come around every year – maybe even leave an Easter egg or two.

         Peter – I’ll tell you, the kids are the best part of the job. (Pause) Well that and all the benefits I get from folks like Hallmark, Whitman candies, Hershey – you know the ones that I endorse year after year. I didn’t buy this hutch with a bushel full of carrots, I’ll tell you that.

         Mr.Gee – Yes, I can see you’ve done quite well for yourself.

         Peter – Yes, but not nearly as well as my cousin, Eric. Man, he struck it rich when they decided to use him as the mascot for a certain magazine. But let’s not talk about that. (Leans down to whisper) After all I’m sure some of your readers might care to “go there”. Know I mean?

           Mr.Gee – Yes, Pete, I do. And I appreciate your sensitivity to such things. Speaking of sensitivity, I need to bring up something that hope is not a sore spot.

          Peter – A sore spot?

          Me --  Well I’m talking about the rivalry between you and you know who?

          Peter – You mean Bugs?

          Me – No, I’m not talking about Bugs Bunny. I was referring to … um, Jesus.

         Peter (Reacts) Jesus Christ? You think we’re rivals, do you? Well, pal let me set you straight on that right now. WE ARE NOT RIVALS.

         Me – Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you though I did warn you it might be a sore spot.

          Peter – Oh, I’m not sore. I’m just dumbfounded how anyone could consider us, would consider us rivals. I’m at best a fun distraction for kids mostly – playful, entertaining and some might say I’m cute. But Jesus … (long pause) Jesus is much more than that. (Leans back in his chair) Listen most of the guys that know me would say I’m not much of religious type but come on, you’ve got to give credit where credit is due. Jesus did something no else had ever done before, will ever do or can ever do.

         Me – You’re talking about coming back from the dead.

         Peter – Exactly. No one but no one has every done that before – because no one else can.

         Me – Well, Mr. Cotton … I mean, Pete, how is it that you’re as prominent in some people’s mind as Jesus is when it comes to Easter.

         Pete Okay, I’ll try and answer that as briefly as I can since I don’t want to bore you with history – I don’t have time for that anyway but here’s a crash course in the origins  of how I came to be associated with Easter.     

            It started back in ancient times with a pagan holiday and folks paying tribute to the goddess of spring. They felt led to set aside a season to celebrate this time when new growth happened- in other words a time to celebrate fertility. Well we rabbits have been identified with that sort of thing for while now and so it was only natural later on that they chose to use my tribe as a symbol. Later after church decided to use that same pagan day to recognize the resurrection of Jesus my ancestors sort came along as part of the package. And we’ve been a part of that particular season ever since.

          Mr. Gee – Yes, I know that the same sort of scenario has been played out when it comes to Christmas.

           Peter – Same thing. Pagan holiday, that’s a big deal, the church comes along and says let’s choose that day to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Saint Nicholas becomes identified with the season and the birth of Jesus winds up getting lost in all the hoopla. Mr. C and I have spent many evening talking about this. But hey, it’s a money maker (shrugs his shoulders) whatcaha gonna do. Folks seem to have a way of making the significant insignificant and vice versa. Of course I can’t complain, I’ve done alright by it.

          Mr. Gee – Indeed you have. Anything else you’d like to add?

           Peter – Only this – I’m all about pretending. All about imagination and fantasy – about wishful thinking, as it were. Jesus is not about any of that. To get the two of us mixed up is … Hare-brained (winks) if you know what I mean.

          Mr. Gee – I do. Thanks for your time, Pete.

           Peter – You’re welcome.

             Soon it will be Easter Sunday – Resurrection or Foolishness? You get a very clearly defined opportunity to emphasize one or the other this Sunday—which may well be like a kind of living parable, I think. This kind of dividing line puts me in mind of an old quote I remember, which seems appropo’ this year and it goes something like this “I’m a fool for Christ, who’s fool are you?” I’d say that sort of goes along with Dylan’s song “You Gotta Serve Somebody”. Indeed we do. Resurrection – faith or fairytale. It’s always up to us to decide.

          

Happy Easter

                                                          

George Gagliardi

Christmas 2017

  This past year has been good, overall, but there’s been one too many trips to the ER for my taste. But thank God, literally, I’m still here and those issues apparently are resolved – stay tuned for further developments. (Like I could do something about it!)

    There’s been a lot of music, merriment and adventures with plenty of travel opportunities in the mix for me since the last Christmas epistle. The players in this saga I call my life are much the same as last year but of course there are some who are no longer here to visit with – I miss them, I miss being able to call them up for a “chat and chew” and I miss them being here in my life.

 Not inclined to go into a lot of specifics about the who and where, etc of these past twelve months  but suffice it to say my life continues to be a journey of blessings and challenges – of joys and sorrows – in other words being fully alive to all that there is to this business of living. I hope you can say the same.

  Here’s this year’s contribution …

Are You Missing Christmas?

   The setting – Christmas Eve, Somewhere USA, a busy shopping mall, and there just outside the revolving doors of a department store a young man strums his guitar. He’s in his mid to late 30’s, bearded, long hair but far from scruffy – a kind of throwback to the hippies of the late 60’s. He starts to sing …

Let me ask you a question

Now take your time with your reply

Are you missing Christmas?

Have you let it pass you by?

  About that time a middle aged man, carrying two bulging shopping bags comes out of the store. He’s almost to the curb when one of the bags splits open, spilling all the wrapped gifts on the sidewalk.

  “Those expletive, expletive, expletive (fill in the curse words of your choice) bags aren’t worth a flying expletive. If they’re gonna sell you all this crap then they should make bags sturdy enough to hold it”. Stooping to pick up the gifts he continues to grimace and mutter.

   Having put down his guitar, the young man walks over to the disgruntled shopper, “Can I help you with those?”

    The man looks up with a scowl but upon seeing the sincere smile simply says, “Yeah, why not. I can’t quite manage this by myself. Guess I’ll have to go back into the exple …” Something stops him from continuing his tirade. Later on he would wonder what it was.

   “Oh, you don’t have to do that, unless you want to. I can help you carry these to your car.”

     Suspicion starts to creep into the shopper’s eyes. And he thinks “Uh, oh, better watch out this could be some kind of con or a set up or a … Then upon looking harder at this young hippie he reconsiders his objections. “Hell, he says to himself, I’m an ex-Marine I could take this kid down if I had to. Might as well take help where I can get it”.

   “Okay, I can use an extra pair of hands. I have to warn you though the car is miles away. It was the only parking place I could find”.

  The young man grins , “Not to worry, I’ve been standing in this one place so long, I can use the exercise.”

   So they start out across the crowded parking lot, dodging holiday drivers, frantically trying to get some last minute shopping done. There’s not much conversation on the way. Finally they approach the shopper’s SUV.

   “Well, here we are. I warned you it was a long way over here.”

    “That’s okay.” As he hands the last of the gifts to the shopper, he speaks “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

      The shopper looks at him and thinks -- “Oh, no, here it comes he’s going to ask for money. Well, he did help me with my stuff so I guess a couple of bucks won’t hurt. After all it is Christmas”.

    “Go ahead, ask away”.

      “Are you missing Christmas?”

       “What?” He paused. “If you mean would I miss Christmas if it went away then the answer is no. I’ve had it with all the hustle and bustle – trying to find a parking place, spending money I don’t have on gifts people don’t appreciate or need. And for what – just because it’s what we’re supposed to do every year?  Same stupid sappy Christmas songs, same craze to have a sale on everything to get people to come out. Worse than all that is that it now starts the day after Hallowe’en, or so it seems to me. Me, miss Christmas? – not much I wouldn’t”.

    The young man looked at the shopper with sadness in his eyes. “I guess I have my answer though I’m always hoping to hear something different but I rarely do.”

     The shopper walked around to get into the driver’s seat. “Now let me ask you a question. Why did you want to know?”

     He lowered his eyes and shook his head. “I keep hoping people will remember whose birthday it is and what the holiday is supposed to be about.”

     The shopper, paused before he spoke … “Well, I’m not really a very religious man but then again neither are many of my friends. I think that part of Christmas disappeared a long time ago. It’s all about shopping and Santa Claus and all that.” He took a long look into the face of the young man.

“Why should you care whose birthday it is?”

  He walked over to the where the shopper stood and without ceremony simply held his face in his hands and said “Because it’s mine.” And with that brief declaration he vanished.

   Stunned, this foul-mouthed, middle-aged ex-Marine got into his car and in a kind of almost drunken stupor drove home. What had just happened? What did it mean? Who was that young man, was he …? He let the thought trail off because the answer was too preposterous to consider. And yet …

    This encounter really happened and from now on, at least at Christmas time, he would remember it – and maybe even remember whose birthday it is.

     A fanciful tale, to be sure, but the question is real for all of us “Are We Missing Christmas?” Only your heart and mine, know the answer to that.

 

Happy Birthday Jesus (or if you prefer, Merry Christmas)

George Gagliardi, December, 2017