Artwork © Stilson Greene

In Loudoun County, Virginia the courthouse lawn has exploded into an arena for freedom of speech versus religious expression. This past Christmas season the lawn was host to two manger displays, a skeleton in a Santa suit crucified on a cross and a large billboard portraying the birth of Christ as the birth of the Giant Flying Spaghetti Monster or some such nonsense. Atheists, and others, use the lawn throughout the year to promote their views or non-views. First of all, everyone is entitled to their belief or non-belief and I do respect their point of view, especially when it comes to religion. I do not respect it when someone ridicules a religion, or wraps their view in hateful and disrespectful imagery; and, say what you will, but on this lawn, Christianity is the most frequent target of tasteless assaults.

My other point is the Atheists wrong-headed use of John Lennon as a visual icon of atheism. Every year a large image of John Lennon with the lyrics “Imagine there’s no heaven…” is erected on the courthouse lawn promoting their tenet of “No God.” Admittedly, John questioned many things in his short life, and his songs “God” and the oft-quoted utopian anthem “Imagine” are full of his searching and questioning. They are full of love and hope, too.

In the middle 1970′s John had an spiritual awakening on a fateful sailing trip and not only made his peace with his God but with his own creativity.

Of course there isn’t any empirical proof to this except in one of John’s songs entitled “Grow Old With Me”. It is one of his most personal works and one of the last songs he wrote. It only takes a listen or a look at the chorus to determine if John was an atheist and an icon worthy of atheistic beautification:

Grow old along with me
The best is yet to be
When our time has come
We will be as one
God bless our love
God bless our love

I don’t think those lyrics, again, some of his last, give any indication to his atheism but actually defy that view.

So if you do want to be taken seriously with your public displays of Atheism I suggest you dial down the venom and use an appropriate visual spokesman; John Lennon certainly is not one of them.

If you need an idea for someone on your gift list here are some “Stilson Tested” items to consider.

Books
Doc: A Novel / Mary Doria Russell
A wonderfully textured historical novel about the Old West icon Doc Holiday. Richly detailed and beautifully written, Doc transports you to the post-Civil War years where the West was changing everyday. You will not walk with Doc to the OK Corral but you will know this enigmatic man before he became legend. This is a great book.

The Lost Beatles Photographs: The Bob Bonis Archive, 1964-1966
A pictorial history of The Fabs first three US Tours in 1964, 1965 and 1966. These photographs capture the innocence, the camaraderie and the exhaustion of those years on the Fabs. The unblinking camera finds candid moments that will fill you with joy and break your heart at the same time.

Fire and Rain: The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, James Taylor, CSNY, and the Lost Story of 1970 / David Browne
It was the year that music’s powerful and influential force broke apart, the year that America’s beloved vocal duo began fraying at the seams, the year a tall lanky North Carolina singer-songwriter began capturing our hearts and the year where America’s true supergroup could have dominated the music world, but due to diverse personalities only broke into pieces. This is a fascinating look into one of the most tumultuous years ever witnessed in popular music, and you’re in the front row.

Music
The King Is Dead / The Decemberists
I admit this band can be an acquired taste, their work can be pretentious, dispassionate and cloaked in metaphor. The King Is Dead is all those things but it’s wrapped in a sweet sugar coating of hooks and harmonies, it also helps that unlike most of their songs, these are tightly arranged and structured in a time conscious manner. Highly recommended.

Nothing Is Wrong / Dawes
This is the sophomore effort from this LA based folk- rock band and it’s a stunner. Strong songwriting and stronger musicianship makes this work worm its way into your head and plant little melody seeds that will pop up when you least expect them. Just preview “Time Spent In Los Angeles” and “How Far We’ve Come”, if they don’t hit you in a sweet spot then move along. For extra street cred, Dawes is Robbie Robertson’s backing band when he sporadically plays live.

Ghost On The Canvas / Glen Campbell
A farewell album by one of the great Artists of our time. Diagnosed with Alzheimer’s early this year, Glen Campbell looks back on a career of ups and downs with brutal honesty and tons of bravery. The songs here hold up against his best and hopefully will re- establish his overwhelming talent. A few years from now THE Wichita Lineman may not remember his legacy but with his previous work and now Ghost, that legacy is assured.

Miscellaneous
Remember the old plastic chain purses with the little chain that banks and other businesses gave away years ago, well I bought myself one. It was not easy to find but you can get them online, since then I’ve bought 7 more for friends who saw mine and thought the same damn thing I did, it’s cool and it’s functional.

Merry Christmas!

The beach is a beautiful, mysterious and wondrous spectacle of grace and magic, unfortunately it is made up of sand.

Sand spurs are the bane of existence to dogs’ paws and human fingertips.

The words “dress code” applies to no one and that’s a good thing.

The daily Washington Post costs $2.25, compared to the quality of the local and regional papers available, it’s a steal.

Seafood is abundant and aplenty. Seafood costs aplenty.

The horseshoe crab comes close to the duckbill platypus in asking God…Huh?

The best Polynesian/Hawaiian food I’ve ever eaten was in Kill Devil Hills at Mama Kwans, a Tiki bar but mainly a local hang.

Best pancakes I’ve ever had are served at First Light in Corolla, friendly staff, too.

I’m a hat guy but the beach made me respect and love the hoodie.

Sea air makes everything taste, smell and look better.

My Croc footwear that everyone scoffs at was the norm. People at the beach are smarter.

Crows are smarter than seagulls. The gulls hang at the beach for food, the crows hang at the restaurant parking lots.

People take their time to say hello and smile..and they mean it.

I never saw 11pm.

I always saw God’s face in every sunrise.

That’s a question we all are asked a few times during our life time.

Knowing me you would think a Beatle song of course and you would be very close, because if I had to pick my second favorite song it would be their brilliant, romantic and nostalgic classic “In My Life”.

My favorite song is “The Weight”, performed by The Band and written by Robbie Robertson. This work spoke to me at an early age. It was 1968, I was 14 years old when I first heard it broadcast from my FM radio and I was immediately struck by the sound and honesty of it. Even the name of the group was dramatic, THE BAND. During this period of music it was the time of Strawberry Alarm Clock, The Chocolate Wristband, The Electric Prunes and many more who copped their handle from the elongated Beatles’ moniker, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. The longer or weirder the better, because in order to play the “in” music of the time, psychedelic, the more shocking or experimental your band’s name should be.

Then out of the fog of smoke machines, back-lit slide shows and surrealistic lyrics stepped out five road tested musicians with songs  about people, places and things. They didn’t wear Nehru shirts or dashikis, instead they wore jeans, vintage suits and fedoras. Their album (Music From Big Pink)  design wasn’t paisley patterned with smoking pigs but adorned with photographs of their families as if at a large  family reunion. Their music was the same.

The songs were real, the voices of working men singing songs of their past and their future hopes. They sounded “old”, familiar even on first listen. A complete break from “Incense and Peppermints” to dirt and corn. And leading me to their revival tent of American music history was “The Weight”.

“I pulled into Nazareth…”

The journey stars with that phrase, could it be the Nazareth of the Bible or the town in Pennsylvania where the best acoustic guitars have been made for decades, C.F. Martin & Company?

And who are Carmen and the Devil, Luke, Crazy Chester or the Fanny who has the load to bear throughout the song…. and why take the load from her. It was and remains as mysterious, haunting, enigmatic and beautiful today as the first time I heard it.

It is my favorite song because it led me to many different roads of music: folk, country, bluegrass, New Orleans, Appalachian… they are too numerous to list.

It’s my favorite song because it made me feel that music was hand-hewn and not something so far beyond me that it was impossible achieve. For the first time in my life music became a living breathing thing in my life and not just wonderful grooves on vinyl. It also brought kinship with the music of my father. I began to understand his love of Johnny Cash and finally got his affection for Hank Wilson. “The Weight” did that for me.

Every time I hear the guitar start that beautifully mournful roll into its opening line, all those feelings of family, friends and times-had roll back to me as Levon Helm stats to sing. And when it comes to its closing, whatever mood I may have been in, it is improved with bittersweet memories of times gone and times to come.

That’s why it is my favorite song.

I wish you would share yours, too.

I’m told that between cell phones, digital car clock readouts, computers and many other what-nots, no one needs to wear a watch anymore, that wristwatches have become like the dinosaur. Well, excuse me but I am a living breathing Brontosaurus.

I know I am in the minority of many things but I never thought wearing a wrist watch would drop me into one. The idea of leaving the house without a bandana in my back left pocket, a small pocket knife in my front left pocket and a watch on my left wrist is totally foreign to me. Now I realize the bandana and pocket knife are truly old school, those two items became intrinsic to me because of my grandfather and father who never were without either, but a watch was ubiquitous to my generation.

I have both my grandfather’s and my father’s watches, both sturdy Timexes with plain leather bands, both worn and smooth from years on their wrists. My first watch was a hand-me-down from my grandfather, yes, a simple round white-face Timex that I had to wind everyday. I believe that a first watch should be one that has to be kept wound; it teaches responsibility and a sense of duty, no matter how small.

Everyone wore a watch. Remember the Lady Timex? They were only smaller and instead of a brown or black leather/vinyl they were pink or red.

As time passed so did the watches we wore; they became more expensive, bigger, waterproof, self-winding, solar powered, battery operated and digital. Now I will tell you I have a Mickey Mouse watch, a Goofy watch that runs backward, a myriad of Batman watches and a collection of old family Timex and Bulova watches, but I am proud to say that I have never worn a digital time piece on my wrist. There is something mysterious, wonderful and romantic about all those tiny gears and contraptions moving in perfect harmony encased in a package that, if kept up, will tell you the time of day consistently with a flick of the wrist.

I have enough digital in my life, from alarm clocks to music; my final bastion of the digital age I wear proudly as my red badge of courage, a gold Seiko with matching band.

As a youngster I was too busy AM radioing to really know you. You were peripherally on my ear-radar through the songs Blowing In The Wind, Just Like A Woman and Like A Rolling Stone. But with the British Invasion winning on my Sears stereo you didn’t stand a chance, plus that voice it just wasn’t sweet enough for my ear candy tastes.

In 1968 a fortuitous purchase at the local Drug Fair changed all that. After falling in love with The Band’s “Music From Big Pink” album and devouring the liner notes I had to know more about you. My first mistake in trying to make your acquaintance was getting to know you through your “Greatest Hits” releases. I apologize. Of course all the songs were there that make you a welcome dinner guest, but not until my Cousin Booty gave me a copy of “New Morning” in 1970 did I realize your true friends got to know you through the dark corners of midnight coffee and the deep tracks of your menu. It was akin to know Dylan Thomas only through his “Gentle Good Night” than through his body of work. So I dove into the deep end, and Bob, I’ve enjoyed every new stroke and flip.

You’ve been called the voice of a generation, you scoffed at that just like a true voice should. Bill Clinton called you America’s poet laureate and you smiled and turned your amp on 11. Oscars, Grammys and Pulitzers abound, but you remain on the road and probably couldn’t sketch their images.

Every five years or so some critic calls the next new voice the new Bob Dylan, then that voice hears your canon and collapses under its weight.

Over the years you have given me many great gifts, so many I need a list to remember them all, but these 11 are so close and personal to our friendship I had to single them out:

Don’t Fall Apart On Me Tonight

Chimes Of Freedom

My Back Pages

Not Dark Yet

Tomorrow Is Such A Long Time

Tight Connection To My Heart

Workingman’s Blues # 2

Something There Is About You

If You See Her, Say Hello

Every Grain Of Sand

The 11th I will close this letter with, for it speaks not only of our abiding friendship but our soon to be traveled trails in the future.

Forever Young

May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young

May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young

May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
May your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young

Happy Birthday Bob.

Love

Stilson

Going to town was a big deal when I was a very young boy. Leesburg (Virginia) was different then; it was the center of the universe. It had grocery stores, a Five & Ten Shop, pharmacies, hardware stores, clothing shops, movie theater, restaurants plus all the professionals such as doctors, lawyers and shoemakers. It was the mall of my childhood and integral to a way of life now long past.

I was probably 4 or 5 when I went with my Mom downtown one day, most likely for a doctor’s appointment or other such thing. Usually I stayed home with my Grandfather when Mom went to town. She would go with either my Grandmother or my beloved Aunt Ann because Mother didn’t drive, that was a skill she finally learned in her middle fifties. I guess Grandaddy was busy or pretended to be because he wanted a break from me following him around from chore to chore, but it was more likely he had chickens to kill for supper. I didn’t know that we raised our chickens for food then; I thought that when Daisy or Cluckles came up missing they just ran away to another henhouse or were out visiting friends. The truth hit me one day when Grandaddy made me hold Henrietta down on the block as he did the deed; I was shocked and tearful, he just turned and said, in a sad wise voice, “I thought it’s about time you knew.” Sunday Supper wasn’t the same for awhile.

On that trip downtown my Mom and I went to Edwards Drugstore, I’m guessing she had to wait for a prescription to be filled. So we waited in a booth in the soda fountain-dining room section of the store. Usually we sat at the counter and on a rare occasion I could order a Vanilla Coke, but we didn’t ever sit in a booth. On this glorious day we did, and when the waitress came over for our order, my Mom ordered two Cokes and two ham and cheese sandwiches on white toast. She still orders that today when she goes to lunch. It’s important to remember that my sandwich eating history at that time was only written by my Mom and my Grandmother, and they served it the only way that I thought God in his wisdom would have a sandwich made – cut straight across the middle making two symmetrical rectangles.

When the sandwiches arrived that day they were cut diagonally. What the hell? I just stared at my sandwich, I had no intention of putting that in my mouth. My Mom noticing my wide eyed fear asked what was wrong. Looking at those pointed sharp ends of toasted bread they became swords, razor sharp. When I told Mom that I couldn’t bite it because it would cut me, she lifted my sandwich, took a small bite to prove that it was safe and said that it was “drugstore cut.” I don’t think I ever enjoyed a sandwich more; that small memory of sharing between my mother and I became ingrained in our DNA, intrinsic in our relationship from that second forward.

My mother is 83 now, and on the occasion she makes me a sandwich in her kitchen she will hold the knife above the bread and its stuffing and ask me as she has from that special moment on, “regular or drugstore.”

1. Rubber Soul – The Beatles. No surprise I’m sure, they are intrinsic to my DNA, picking one was almost impossible, but I listen to Rubber Soul at least once a week, how could I not ever hear it again.

2. The Band (The Brown Album) – The Band – A seminal work for me, easing out Music From Big Pink by a guitar string. This album changed the way I heard and thought about music and it’s rich American heritage. Through this piece of work I discovered Bob Dylan, the blues, country and western, gospel and much more. It forked the road for me from British/American pop to another darker less traveled path.

3. Into the Music – Van Morrison. I can’t imagine never hearing Van’s voice again, and this work shines vocally. In his grunts and swoons I can hear Elvis, Jackie Wilson, Tom Waits, Sam Cooke, Wilson Pickett, Frank Sinatra and many more. I chose this for the vocalists I love, with Van at the top of the heap.

4. Broken Moon – Lowen & Navarro. I cannot put into words how I feel about this album, it has healed me many times. I think Eric Lowen and Dan Navarro are two of the best songwriters, singers and performers I have ever had the pleasure to know. I have given this album to friends almost as much as I have given them Rubber Soul;  it’s that good and that important to me. Lowen and Navarro are the brave working troubadours, carrying on a time honored tradition of  songwriting and truth. And brave may be too weak a word.

5. Honky Tonk Heroes – Waylon Jennings. The greatest country album by one of the greatest country artists. The songs of Billy Joe Shafer brought to stunning life by a crackerjack band and a soulful singer. But it’s on the list for more than that, this album is a chapter of my life in 1973-1975 that remains as some of the best years I had as a young man and with the best brothers- in-arms a friend could ask for… and also because of Lakeside Amusement Park, three fingered whiskey and wiiiiiiild buffaloes.

So there’s my five and why, now you do the same, post yours in the comments below and let’s listen to what your life is like.

As high as that number is, Batman is worth much more than that to me. Batman gave me a career.

The first thing my parents remember me drawing was Batman, the first thing I remember drawing was Batman. If you went to grade school with me, the first thing you probably remember me drawing was Batman.

I got caught up in comics and superheroes because of the Caped Crusader. The mixture of line, color and splashes of type fascinated me. The design of how a page flowed, the use of different fonts, the mix of visuals and the printed word had a profound impact on how I saw things graphically.

Then, I thought it was just cool. I learned all the artists by name: Jack Kirby, Steve Ditko, Wally Wood, Gil Kane, Gene Colan and too many more to mention. I could, and still can, tell you not only who drew the art, but who inked , colored and lettered the comic just by seeing just one panel of  it. Later my tastes grew to include Rembrandt, Leonardo, Durer and others as my favorite artists.

I knew I wanted to be an artist very early on, I also knew that being a comic book artist wasn’t for me. Why? I can’t draw vehicles, not great with machinery rendering, had no problem drawing Batman, the Batmobile is a different story.

So illustration and graphic design became my passion in college. I could still use my skill as an artist but also use my love of type and layout and how it communicates to an audience. Don’t get me wrong, I still had the burning desire to paint and live at the Chelsea Hotel in New York City and eventually get discovered by some snooty gallery and become famous… but hey, I’m a Greene, I gotta eat.

So this year marks my 30th year in business as Stilson Greene Graphic Design & Illustration, I look back and forward and am thankful for my family, friends and clients who believed and still believe in me. I do continue to paint and do art for myself, and am fortunate to have a gallery that shows my work, but my CAREER is using images and type and layout to communicate messages and feelings, and to that, all I can say is…”Thanks Batman.”

I discovered “Wind in the Willows” in Mrs. Ector’s 5th grade class at Leesburg Elementary School. She, noticing my constant doodles of Batman and Hulk, and my fevered reading of  Robert McCloskey’s brilliantly written and drawn, “Homer Price” (McCloskey was so much more than just “Make Way for Ducklings”, dammit), handed me a small tattered green-clothed book. The cover had gold embossed letters and a illustration of wildlife creatures looking up at a huge centaur-looking fellow playing a flute; it was my first look at “Wind in the Willows.”

In it was a world inhabited by Moles, Water Rats, Badgers and Toads all anthropomorphised with dandy vests, shoes, hats, hell, even motor cars. This wasn’t new, growing up on Huckleberry Hound and Quickdraw McGraw, this was a universe known to all kids. But reading their adventures and how they seamlessly interacted with “human” society and taking on the mores of the society was a mind blowing experience. Let’s not fool ourselves into thinking that I even knew what “mores”  were as a 10 year old boy occupied with The 3 Stooges, comic books and English rock and roll, but even then, these characters had me.

The shy to courageous Mole, the steady loyal Rat, brave, wise and stoic Badger and the wild, gregarious, iresponsible Toad (of Toad Hall), all taught me lessons of friendship, responsibility and courtesy I still try to hold on to today. And the most mysterious character of all I never grasped until later readings, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn. His role of spiritual protector and the river-maker of all things natural and pure in a world of  hopelesness and loss rings true in all our lives.

So whatever book holds a beloved spot in your soul from childhood, I ask you to rediscover it today, read and view it with your older eyes and let it take you to new journeys you thought long gone.