I got a home on high, in another land, so far away.....

The quest for musical/spiritual transcendence has been a career-long quest for Van Morrison. On “Astral Weeks” he even claimed that he had reached his destination.

And on "Vanlose Stairway", he indeed comes close. Very close.

The series of events, places and people that make up our lives are often seemingly mundane. But like in Wim Wenders' life-changing and affirming “Wings of Desire,” it is finding joy and meaning in those moments that provide a reason for living.

And for some, the path itself that uses these touchstones as a markers in a search provides enough of that reason to believe.

Morrison’s stairway may be a literal place (for him, a neighborhood in Copenhagen), or a symbol of what is higher, be it physical or spiritual.

A moment. A place. A time.

And as with so much of his music, there is enough mystery here to get lost while maybe even still finding yourself.

He references a pillow, a Bible, a gee-tar, a Hindu text, physical love and a stairway that reaches up to the moon and back to you.

What does all this mean? I don’t know, and you don’t either. And I don’t think Van knows.

More importantly, I think, is the fact that it is all about the search itself. We are all searching, some more than others. Some may think they have found it. Others not.

The music cascades, going into the mystic, and cycling same through just three chords. These chords resolve into each other, again and again, creating a dreamlike atmosphere that simply does not go on long enough.

It is breathtaking.

Wherever Van is trying to get to, I want to go too. Or at least join him in the search.

We may be looking for different places, but we are the same journey, trying to find our own version of home.

Here's a version I especially like (although I haven't heard a bad one yet) that features Georgie Fame with Van yodeling and name checking Little Richard.



Gotta stand and face it, life is so complicated

Living in the past and facing the future, at the same time

“It isn't necessary to imagine the world ending in fire or ice. There are two other possibilities: one is paperwork, and the other is nostalgia.”     Frank Zappa          

Joined the 21st Century this week with a Netflix subscription. The free trial selection is poor, but I am satisfied by the old and classic titles available overall.

The first two films I rented were Wim Wenders’ affairs, which being from the 80s are down-right contemporary for me. I plan of loading up on Abbott and Costello, Marx Brothers, and old sitcoms next – all of these will especially please Jack.

These rental choices, along with my musical preferences, beg the question: Are modern art forms bad, or just unappealing to me? Is a societal problem, or is it mine? Am I destined to live out my years reminiscing about the good old days and muttering about Dave Debusschere, “Muswell Hillbilles” and Soupy Sales?

Quite possibly.One explanation is my reverence for the past events in my personal life. Like Travis Henderson from "Paris, Texas," sometimes my losses seem overwhelming; for me, to retreat into the known comfort of memories is very satisfying.

Another thing that may change my way of thinking is when my kids develop their own individual tastes and are no longer under my spell. Perhaps I will be forced to listen to their “future of rock and roll,” similar to what I did to my Mom and Dad.

I don’t think I swayed them too much.

If fact, as I got older I sort of came full circle, finally appreciating the likes of Ernest Tubb and gospel music.

I haven’t come all the way around to “The Lawrence Welk Show” (a Saturday night staple in our house), but I still have a crush on The Lennon Sisters, and boy didn’t that Myron Floren wail on the accordion?

There may be champagne music in my future yet.

Talk softly tonight, little angel

An embrace. A caress of a shoulder. The chance to fall in love. The taste of coffee.

What does it mean to be alive? What are the very things, however large or small, that make life worth living?

Wim Wenders’ “Wings of Desire,” is a meditation on those things, filmed beautifully, and it has been haunting me (in a good way) since I saw it for the first time recently. The angels portrayed in "Wings of Desire" serve as the eyes of God, watching over creation. One of them desires to become mortal: to feel, to touch, to taste, to experience the millions of seemingly mundane moments in our everyday lives.

The film is shot in monochromatic tones, except when we are seeing things through the eyes of humans. Then we get full-blown color, meant to wed the depth of the human experience with the richness of the possibilities of our surroundings.

Of course, this film offers much more, but my takeaway resides in the appreciation of the little things. Which, in reality, are the big things.

Readers of this blog know the things that are life-affirming to me, and “Wings of Desire” is an ethereal reminder to appreciate them, live with them, and soak up what life has to offer. Make connections, rise above isolation, and witness the grace that is out there.

Even though it sometimes can be hard to see.