Brad Dunse: The Blog

...Nonetheless I began to muse on my home as a kid growing up in Upper Michigan. That house is still standing along the Menominee River and not tore down fortunately.
As I pondered on bits of things to put in the verses I drew from various remembrances and put them in one home, one song.

For instance the burn mark on the hardwood is really a burn mark on 1970 something green carpeting in my bedroom when I was a teen ager. I remember watching Rockford Files and some reruns of old shows late at night, smoking up a storm. My mom opened the door and said “Are you smoking in here?” Of course my not knowing they probably knew I smoked by then blurted out “No mom no… I’m not smoking!” Yeah right… those words somehow made it to her ears through a blue tinge of smoke illuminated by a 12 inch black and white TV I had at the time.

...Perhaps it is not this way for every artist type, lord I hope not, but I find when I get deep in creativity, the practical, common sense, plan ahead side of me disappears somewhere. You could liken it to one of those times when you’re really tired and maybe stayed up all night. You take an afternoon nap on the couch or on the living room floor next to the pup. You’re sleeping really good when suddenly the telephone rings, you open your eyes, and you’re wondering “What? Where am I? What time is it? Is it morning already? No wait its an afternoon sun shining in, and I’m where? The living room?? What the…” You sort of have this stretched moment of not knowing what end is up. That is similar to coming out of these creative modes at times, going from mind wandering creativity to task driven practicality. So what does that have to do with Vera’s Shoes? Well I was in one of these creative modes, doing lots of writing and...

“All ya got to do is remember back home, you know what I mean? When you was sittin out behind the house, practicin' on the old guit fiddle. Trying to get things together. But you couldn't make up your mind, kind of half way knew what you wanted to do but you didn't have it all together you know. But you did know you wanted to travel... ain't that right? Yeah. I remember them days real good. Didn't have very many clothes. Didn't know anybody to call... to send for you. So you had to get out there and hitch hike. So. It didn't make no difference, you said… I'm goin'', I know I got to hitch hike, but I'm goin' anyway. Whatever happens, well then it happens. I got to pay my dues somewhere." – Bluesman Albert King off Albert King and Stevie Ray Vaughn’s In Session Live album

OK. Let’s get one thing straight now that the topic line has your face screwed up in a ferocious grimace and your finger hovering over the dial pad to punch in the number for the Domestic Abuse Hotline.

This has nothing to do with whooping up on your poor little nephew. Never mind the fact that he can program your DVD player’s clock with one hand while simultaneously text messaging his buddies with the other… “Yeah I’m over at my uncle’s place programming his home theater center after the power failure… again!!”, Never mind the fact he’s tricked out his computer with high RPM fans, gold plated connectors, a liquid cooled operating system while you struggle frantically to figure out which remote turns the volume down on the TV as the phone rings for the third time… just one more ring and it rolls to the voice mail system. Or the fact he...

...Perhaps this is a guy thing or a schmaltzy predictable metaphor, but life with its invariable challenges is sort of like a battlefield. We jump out and start marching and before we know it something or someone gets in the way, tossing pop shots at you trying to dissuade your course. It could be a health issue, an economic issue, a relationship issue; it could be any number of things.

Now I’m not saying life is a drag, far from that, I think life is absolutely fantastic, that is important to remember as you read further. But we do have our battles from time to time which are not all bad really, they build character and also help strengthen the soldier and toughen up the skin under the uniform...