Two of my favorite original songs are now on my MySpace page.
http://www.myspace.com/michaelraymeadows
This song is mostly written about and dedicated to my grandfather, Arnice Lacy Meadows. He was a powerful man with an engaging personality and a quick wit. He was loved by many, and truly known by a privileged few who loved him even more.
I only got to spend one year with him, but in that year, he taught me a lot about how to live with dignity, and how to be true to myself and to my convictions. He taught me about living intentionally without ever really saying anything. He taught by example, as did many others who came into my life at pivotal moments during my childhood and teenage years. My grandfather was truly a man amoung men.
Originally, the idea for this song was inspired by Dr. Donald Tuttle, (a.k.a. "Doc") who took truckloads of kids out into the Sonoran Desert to teach them about insects for over 40 years.
When I discovered that writing a truly sentimental song about an entomologist was impossible unless it was destined for the Dr. Demento show, I started working on another angle.
One day I came home from work, and the idea hit me to try the same tune, but to make the words about my grandfather. The current song, in pretty much its entirety, came out in about five minutes. I wish that they all were that easy.
Dr. Tuttle was always just Doc to me. Listed in the Who's Who of Science for many years, he had personally named many new species of spider mites. He was responsible for many innovative programs in the agricultural fields in Arizona from the 40's through the mid-80's.
To me, he was the man who took the time to come and pick me up in his truck every Saturday morning at 9am, sharp. My sister and I and several other 4-Hers would pile up in the back of that truck, ready for adventure, and having no idea where we were headed to next.
There are two verses in here that specifically speak to Doc Tuttle. "I never knew his name; I never even once heard him complaining." and "He never said a whole lot, but he had a lot of good things to say."
Whether we walked through the shallows of the Colorado River, over the sand dunes, through deserted pig farms, subtle desert flowers patches, or lush fields of newly irrigated alfalfa, Doc always led the way. He too, was a man among men.
I only got to spend one year with him, but in that year, he taught me a lot about how to live with dignity, and how to be true to myself and to my convictions. He taught me about living intentionally without ever really saying anything. He taught by example, as did many others who came into my life at pivotal moments during my childhood and teenage years. My grandfather was truly a man amoung men.
Originally, the idea for this song was inspired by Dr. Donald Tuttle, (a.k.a. "Doc") who took truckloads of kids out into the Sonoran Desert to teach them about insects for over 40 years.
When I discovered that writing a truly sentimental song about an entomologist was impossible unless it was destined for the Dr. Demento show, I started working on another angle.
One day I came home from work, and the idea hit me to try the same tune, but to make the words about my grandfather. The current song, in pretty much its entirety, came out in about five minutes. I wish that they all were that easy.
Dr. Tuttle was always just Doc to me. Listed in the Who's Who of Science for many years, he had personally named many new species of spider mites. He was responsible for many innovative programs in the agricultural fields in Arizona from the 40's through the mid-80's.
To me, he was the man who took the time to come and pick me up in his truck every Saturday morning at 9am, sharp. My sister and I and several other 4-Hers would pile up in the back of that truck, ready for adventure, and having no idea where we were headed to next.
There are two verses in here that specifically speak to Doc Tuttle. "I never knew his name; I never even once heard him complaining." and "He never said a whole lot, but he had a lot of good things to say."
Whether we walked through the shallows of the Colorado River, over the sand dunes, through deserted pig farms, subtle desert flowers patches, or lush fields of newly irrigated alfalfa, Doc always led the way. He too, was a man among men.
Misfits Memoirs was written after watching so many others (not me of course) who just couldn't figure out how to fit in as pre-teens and teenagers, or didn't care to even bother trying to. When I was young-er... I took copious and careful notes of all the sad things that I witnessed (in others, not me of course...) and later put many of them together into this song. I often wonder, as a man who has never once had to deal with feeling like a misfit in my own life, how in the world they ever managed to wake up every morning and face another day time and time again. Actually, it's all about me. No it's not. Just kidding. Everything I've just said is true.
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