"Mad Dogs and Englishmen on Gettysburg Day"
July, 3rd, 2009
146 years ago today, I died. At least one of my bodies did. [To read the story, go to the Muleskinner story on this blog.] Most Americans celebrate the Fourth of July. I get moody on the Third.
In 1971, I first saw the film 'Mad Dogs and Englishmen' at the old State Theatre in Downtown Raleigh, North Carolina. I was only 17. I was a virgin, in more ways than just sexual. I ain't a virgin anymore.
I just bought a brand new DVD of this great film. Watching it now. It makes me cry. Carl Radle, the bassist, is dead from alcoholism. Jim Gordon, the drummer, went to prison for killing his Mom in 1983 and is still there. Leon Russell hopefully is still out there pounding the keys somewhere. Joe Cocker has survived, and lives on the Mad Dog Ranch in Colorado. And I pray Bobbie Keys is blowing his horn, loud into the wind.
I bought the record when it first came out. I then owned the cassette tape to replace the record. I watch a VCR tape of the film many years ago. And now, on Gettysburg Day, I'm watching a DVD and I'm downloading the album from ITunes, even as I type. It's been years. The music, the film are still wonderful.
But I think I'll only watch another half hour or so, for I want to hike to the top of Pontatoc Ridge, which is just a few miles north of my apartment. Hike to the top and think of my fellow Confederate Dead. And be grateful, that my soul is alive in a body that can take me to the top of a desert ridge, and that can hear and see Mad Dogs and Englishmen play.
"Feeling alright? Not feeling too good myself."
Happy 3rd of July.