c. 2026 Rod Ice
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(7-26)
Generally, I embrace a certain creative streak for so long as it holds my interest, and then move onward to the next phase with respect for the nature of proper timing in effect. As it is said in Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, ‘To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.’ During my formative years as a professional scribe in the newspaper business, I learned that this grand metronome is always ticking away. Keeping a rhythm in place that may be joyous, or sorrowful, but is always the cause of life to go forward. Even when I sometimes protested at its insistent stewardship, I would always conclude with hindsight that the direction given had been on point and meaningful.
Reflecting on that past history, I lingered in the artistic groove sired by T. Randall Squire and his record label.
Late on a Friday afternoon, I began to compose yet another working-class set of lyrics, for possible use as a foundation for more recording efforts with my flat-top, acoustic guitar.
All Things Must Pass
“A guy down the street got caught driving drunk
It was just another story, living life in a funk
Getting too seedy and slow to the pitch
The mirror reflected a poor son-of-a-bitch
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
Heard the sirens scream ‘bout a crash down the road
A neighbor told me that cars were being towed
And I’m sitting here just working on a drink
Glad and content with living right on the brink
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
The seasons change from winter white to gold
Meanwhile I’m lonely and growing old
I never expected to find a trophy for the win
But it’s all come down to tossing bags in the trash bin
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
Been married twice, with both vows stalled
I did what I did, when the moment called
The bottom line there, was a bankruptcy case
Standing at the courthouse for a slap in the face
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
Every now and then I’ll play guitar on the stoop
Singing songs of heartache and circling the loop
It’s a proud story for a working man’s kind
The sort of report that I’ve always kept in mind
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
Some of the people that live on my street
Seem to believe that they can compete
With bankrollers and hustlers that have skills for sale
But when the bell is sounded, they’re kicked in the tail
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
I don’t believe that folks fed up with trickery
Have a real chance at escaping their misery
It’s part of the game, rules written in chalk
When the rain comes, there’s a mess on the sidewalk
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
Kids have it better, they imagine their fun
Adults get to settle debts, at the point of a gun
But I won’t get worried as robber-barons barge in
By then I’ll be drunk enough to greet them with a grin
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
The silliest refrain is one learned from a fool
Who’s made a career of following society’s rules
Napkins in place, folded neatly and clean
Glad to be a cog in the money machine
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
You might think my attitude sounds hard and unkind
But I’ve lived a good life on cornbread and moonshine
I won’t feel guilty for making ends meet
And staying on the good side of those keeping the beat
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
Snake flags and rebel rags are a common snare
Where shopping at the dollar store is a family affair
Counting up pennies for a bottom-shelf kick
Drinking Beam’s Eight-Star or Ancient Age by the crick
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
I don’t let it jam me while pondering the pall
Of smoke from a trailer with a hole in the wall
They’ll sweep up the ashes, empty and clear
By tomorrow morning, another singlewide will appear
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
My family is not one with royal inclinations
I have no connection with the heads of foreign nations
I’m a blue-collar bum, in the eyes of a crowd
And that keeps me humble, so far as allowed
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
I’ve gone pretty far on the fumes from a stovepipe
And pushed when I had to, for reaching what’s right
Comforts were few when I entered the scene
But that chill in the air toughened my genes
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
A guy down the street got caught driving drunk
Wife showed him the door, he’s living out of a car trunk
Her wedding ring sailed from the deck to their yard
Now he’s eating bologna, fried up in lard
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass
I’ll give thanks to Jesus, though some are surprised
It’s never my habit to take a slip to the downside
I’m grateful for blessings, even when they are slim
Every day above the dirt I’ll dedicate to him
Life comes at you fast
All things must pass...”
The images here were taken directly from what I had experienced during a previous day, while enjoying fresh air and cold beverages, on my front porch. I reckoned that each recollection would mesh neatly with the others, until a useful tapestry had been woven from those brief, descriptive verses. But instead of attempting to croon out a demo version that would be posted on YouTube, I simply offered the yield in a spoken format, via my personal blog.
I had in mind the writer Charles Bukowski. I guessed that he might endorse this effort as worthy and valid.
That shift in strategy must have caused my entertainment contact to hold his breath for a moment, and rest the cigar he held gingerly over a gold ashtray, on the desk. The reaction from Country Squire came quickly. He sent a howl of indignation to my Messenger app, on the cell phone.
“WHAT’RE Y’ALL TRYIN’ TA DO PARDNER? BREAK THE CHAIN WE’VE HAD GOIN’? KEEP YER PRODUCT COMIN’ BOY, I’VE GOT RADIO STATIONS LINED UP FROM CALIFORNIA TA MAINE! THEY’RE ALL HOT FER NEW TRACKS FROM MR. RODNEY DEAN! HE’S A STAR I’M TELLIN’ YA! A STAR BURNIN’ BRIGHT AND FLYIN’ HIGH!”
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