Down by the river
Oct. 6th, 2022 04:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
offcntrWe originally planned to go from the farm across the state to Menasha, to visit my brother John and connect with Denise's cousin Jim (who, oddly share's John's birthday). But John was already on the farm, and Jim was... somewhere in Europe. His family owns several hardware stores in the Oshkosh area, and when he took over the business from his folks, they started a retirement sideline leading group tours all over the world. Since they've passed, Jim has taken this on, and was currently somewhere in Bavaria, bound for Oberammergau and Oktoberfest. So we went down to La Crosse, instead.
I lived in La Crosse, Wisconsin from 1977 until I left for graduate school in 1985. Got my degree, cartooned for a Catholic weekly newspaper, told children's stories on the radio. Recorded two albums of children's music. Met my future wife in a science-fiction reading group, eventually came back and married her there.
Because we had only about a day, we packed it full. Visited my alma mater, Viterbo University, poked around the Art Department, met the new department head and finally figured out why her name was so familiar. Turns out Sherri and I were freshman together at Viterbo, though she finished her degree in South Carolina. Had a lovely chat with her, got introduced to the ceramics professor, may even be coming back for a visiting artist stint.
We also went down to the Pumphouse Regional Arts Center, a gallery and performance space in a big brick-and-wood structure that originally housed the water works. I'd seen plenty of concerts there over the years, even performed there a few times. Twice with my children's music partner Hans, and once with the Heart of La Crosse comedy improv theater. Saw a couple of really nice exhibits, one featuring work by retired art teachers, the other a children's art show, where I saw this great piece. I could totally see her animated.
Had supper at a place new since we left, Hmong's Golden Egg Rolls. Entrees were really good, but the sausage was spectacular! Really wish this was available around here. I'd go there often.
The next morning, we met Hans and Carol, his wife, for breakfast in a new hotel near the Mississippi. I'd met Carol when she was producing a children's radio show for WLSU public radio, and I was writing and telling stories. Her partner, Hans, had written the Earticklers theme song, but claimed not to have any ideas for more songs. Out of frustration, she put us together, and we finished two new songs in our first meeting. I tend to write most of the lyrics, Hans writes and arranges the music, and we tweak each other's work as necessary. We recorded our first album, My Brother Eats Bugs, before I left in 1985. When I'm Feeling Silly came out in 1987. Hans has been doing children's music ever since--along with half a dozen other projects, including his brother's reggae ensemble, a bluegrass band, and touring bassist for a Native American singer-songwriter. He's scaled back a little of late, but still joins the fiddler from our albums to do drop-in gigs at local nursing homes and care centers.
He showed us their new house, his shop and Carol's studio, and then we just flopped in the living room, visiting. Eventually, his guitar came out, and we sang a bunch of our old songs. And then something he said sparked something in my head, and we wrote a new song. While I was working out the first verse, he was noodling on the guitar. I don't know what this is, he said, But I kinda like it.
Actually? I said, I think it's this song. And proceeded to sing him the first verse.
We eventually completed the whole thing, with a little help from Carol looking up rhymes for me. I don't think kids know 'dispel' she said. I don't think this is a kid's song, I replied.
You judge.
Rainbow
Be a rainbow in somebody's storm
Be a cool breeze on a hot summer's morn
On a cold winter's night, be a blanket so warm
Be a rainbow in somebody's storm.
Now the dark clouds they won't always stay
The storm it will pass and the rain go away
The sun will break through and dispel all the gray
Now the dark clouds they won't always stay.
When your life is a drought, be the rain
To the parched barren land bring the waters again
If you water your heart you can wash away pain
When your life is a drought, be the rain.
When the wind whistles wild, huddle close
Be a shelter together in cold and in snows
In the dark days of winter, we need others most
When the wind whistles wild, huddle close.
Be a rainbow in somebody's storm
Be a cool breeze on a hot summer's morn
On a cold winter's night, be a blanket so warm
Be a rainbow in somebody's storm.
©2022 Frank Gosar & Hans Mayer
I lived in La Crosse, Wisconsin from 1977 until I left for graduate school in 1985. Got my degree, cartooned for a Catholic weekly newspaper, told children's stories on the radio. Recorded two albums of children's music. Met my future wife in a science-fiction reading group, eventually came back and married her there.
Because we had only about a day, we packed it full. Visited my alma mater, Viterbo University, poked around the Art Department, met the new department head and finally figured out why her name was so familiar. Turns out Sherri and I were freshman together at Viterbo, though she finished her degree in South Carolina. Had a lovely chat with her, got introduced to the ceramics professor, may even be coming back for a visiting artist stint.
We also went down to the Pumphouse Regional Arts Center, a gallery and performance space in a big brick-and-wood structure that originally housed the water works. I'd seen plenty of concerts there over the years, even performed there a few times. Twice with my children's music partner Hans, and once with the Heart of La Crosse comedy improv theater. Saw a couple of really nice exhibits, one featuring work by retired art teachers, the other a children's art show, where I saw this great piece. I could totally see her animated.
Had supper at a place new since we left, Hmong's Golden Egg Rolls. Entrees were really good, but the sausage was spectacular! Really wish this was available around here. I'd go there often.
The next morning, we met Hans and Carol, his wife, for breakfast in a new hotel near the Mississippi. I'd met Carol when she was producing a children's radio show for WLSU public radio, and I was writing and telling stories. Her partner, Hans, had written the Earticklers theme song, but claimed not to have any ideas for more songs. Out of frustration, she put us together, and we finished two new songs in our first meeting. I tend to write most of the lyrics, Hans writes and arranges the music, and we tweak each other's work as necessary. We recorded our first album, My Brother Eats Bugs, before I left in 1985. When I'm Feeling Silly came out in 1987. Hans has been doing children's music ever since--along with half a dozen other projects, including his brother's reggae ensemble, a bluegrass band, and touring bassist for a Native American singer-songwriter. He's scaled back a little of late, but still joins the fiddler from our albums to do drop-in gigs at local nursing homes and care centers.
He showed us their new house, his shop and Carol's studio, and then we just flopped in the living room, visiting. Eventually, his guitar came out, and we sang a bunch of our old songs. And then something he said sparked something in my head, and we wrote a new song. While I was working out the first verse, he was noodling on the guitar. I don't know what this is, he said, But I kinda like it.
Actually? I said, I think it's this song. And proceeded to sing him the first verse.
We eventually completed the whole thing, with a little help from Carol looking up rhymes for me. I don't think kids know 'dispel' she said. I don't think this is a kid's song, I replied.
You judge.
Rainbow
Be a rainbow in somebody's storm
Be a cool breeze on a hot summer's morn
On a cold winter's night, be a blanket so warm
Be a rainbow in somebody's storm.
Now the dark clouds they won't always stay
The storm it will pass and the rain go away
The sun will break through and dispel all the gray
Now the dark clouds they won't always stay.
When your life is a drought, be the rain
To the parched barren land bring the waters again
If you water your heart you can wash away pain
When your life is a drought, be the rain.
When the wind whistles wild, huddle close
Be a shelter together in cold and in snows
In the dark days of winter, we need others most
When the wind whistles wild, huddle close.
Be a rainbow in somebody's storm
Be a cool breeze on a hot summer's morn
On a cold winter's night, be a blanket so warm
Be a rainbow in somebody's storm.
©2022 Frank Gosar & Hans Mayer