Victor DeLorenzo's latest post helps ring in spring.
Victor DeLorenzo's latest post helps ring in spring.

Springing into mind

It may not seem like it with the smattering of snow we received today, but spring is but around the corner. With the season in the air, Victor DeLorenzo wrote a collection of thoughts – almost a poetic list, if you will – on the upcoming time of year. Enjoy!

Spring sighting, 2016

Spring can really hang you up the most.

There was a puddle of water there 15 minutes ago.

The sound of the sidewalk is different in Spring.

A bird with a warm wing flew true.

I can remember waking to the smell of those lilac bushes. The hill behind the house that led to Highway 31 was thick with them. They stood like purple sentinels waiting to guide from house to highway. There is a candy available that tastes like those warm pre-summer mornings when the scented breeze was intoxicating. I can remember.

The feeling in the air of another chance close by.

Spring, Sprout, Spew.

Not summer, winter or fall.

The flowers couldn't believe their luck.

Birds compose melodies in 39 octaves to introduce the coming thaw.

She felt the light Spring air when she hit the sidewalk. She smiled.

Everyone came into the store looking for new Pro Keds. I was a shoe dog
that would show the customers what they didn't know they were looking for.
I liked selling shoes. I liked to sell. Shoes, then music. I got fired from that job.

Did the world start in Spring?

The rite of Spring and the wrong of winter.

A gentle rain washed the fields of green and gold.

If it didn't exist, quite a few paintings would disappear.

He had new shoes that took him everywhere. His steps rang with Spring, and all
the problems he had seemed to die. Would this be a new start? Could he imagine
treading water for another nine years. No ...

Her birthday is the first day of Spring.

Bravo! You get to feel another one.

Clean the garage you big dummy.

The March equinox brings rebirth, rejuvenation, renewal, resurrection and regrowth. Does it also bring melancholy, memory, meandering, modesty and morphism?

I love you on a…

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"9 Tears For Bowie With Blackstar"
"9 Tears For Bowie With Blackstar"

Searching for the Beatles, but finding Bowie

It was the beginnings of a long, hot and life-changing summer of 1972 when I got the news.

I had just graduated from high school the previous fall, and as a graduating present my parents and my cousins parents agreed to send my cousin Cree and me to France and England to see a bit of the world and then escort Cree's sister Barbara home from her studies at the university of Lyon in France.

Cree and I first traveled to Lyon, where we met up with Barb and were introduced to Barb's boyfriend, Brian, who was a nice chap who grew up in Leeds and had got to know Barb at university. The only thing I remember about our short stay in Lyon was that the slightly rundown hotel that we stayed at was kind enough to put us in a suite of rooms that were haunted!

Erie shadows that crept across the room, waves of invisible cold air and pictures that seemed to vibrate on the walls, where the kinds of things that didn't make for a good night’s rest. This was my first experience with other-worldly visions, but not my last. Later that year I had the pleasure of "meeting" myself in my parents basement, but that's another story for another day.

After escaping the room demons in Lyon, we flew to Leeds to meet Brian's parents, have our first taste of fish and chips and explore the nightlife of this rough ’n roll English city. In fact, one night after leaving a pub at closing time, we met a little character outside (who's face looked like a fleshy ashtray) who proudly introduced himself as "George Alexander Dick." Cree and I tried to understand his thick and drunken accent while trying to catch the meaning of his slurred humor. He seemed to laugh and enjoy us American blokes for awhile, but then he suddenly stopped mid sentence (I think?) and stared deeply into my cousin’s eyes and said in a now clear and deliberate tone, "eh, I don't like you." Stunned, we didn't stick around to discover the reason for his abrupt change of heart, but, he certainly did live up to his last name.

Our …

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From Victor to you ...
From Victor to you ...

Earth on peace

With everything so loud in our world, I send out to you and yours, a most joyful and quiet whisper-out for a peaceful and safe holiday season.

May the dust of the old Year break away and reveal the hopes and dreams of a New Year like a soft blanket of fresh new fallen snow under a bright holiday moon.

EARTH ON PEACE: What a wonderful place it would be.

(PHOTO: Karen Keene)

Playing stand-up drums with the Violent Femmes at Coachella in 2013.
Playing stand-up drums with the Violent Femmes at Coachella in 2013.

Confessions of a stand-up drummer

When I started to play the drum set some 40-odd years ago, I never thought that someday I'd be standing up to earn my living as a professional.

At that time, all the drummers that I admired sat down behind their collections of wood and metal to guide and power some of the most exciting bands in my-ever-expanding musical universe.

My favorites included such diverse talents as Tony Williams, Elvin Jones, Don Moye, Hal Blaine, Jo Jones, Ed Blackwell, Roy Haynes, Ringo Starr and so many more masters of time and taste. The only time these players would stand up behind their drum sets was to either set them up or tear them down. I had only heard the term "stand-up" applied to comedians or to describe someone's character as a fine law-abiding citizen.

Drummers didn't stand up to perform. They played music sitting down! Standing to play wasn't allowed, or so I thought at the time.

Then I heard the music of The Velvet Underground and the gender bending earth shattering drumming of one Maureen (Moe) Tucker! She played fierce, driving beats on a snare drum, batter side turned up bass drum, and big cymbals, usually with the aid of mallets instead of sticks. Although she used such an unorthodox setup, she played with such a conviction that never let you think that there was something lacking in the drum department.

Moe's playing was peppered with a dramatic freedom and a primitive growl that whipped and slashed through melody and lyric. Her drums and her style gave me some things that
every young drummer comes to realize sooner or later: "Economy is king, and simple is best!"

Oh, and yes … she was standing up.

All of this not only made sense to me musically, but the stand-up bit fed the reason for my entrance into the showbiz world in the first accursed place. Now, I finally had some bread for my ham acting approach to performing as a percussionist with Violent Femmes.

Now, the standing up bit was an entirely different performance problem. I liked the flashy idea of no…

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