This song is dedicated to my mother, Aggie, my wife, Cyndy, my daughter, Jennifer, my granddaughter, Kelley, and all women.
Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.
Peace be with you.
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At some point in my elementary youth, I had a three piece suit. The vest was reversible with two different colors, red and blue as I recall. I very seldom wore the vest on the red side of my own accord. It was around the latter seasons of Man from U.N.C.L.E. We went to a large church with several floors and an elevator.
I have always been able to carry on several trains of thought simultaneously. That’s why I stutter. My mouth doesn’t know which train of thought I want to vocalize. Between Sunday school and the church service, and after church while the grownups talked, kids had relative free time. And I was off on my adventures.
I didn’t really consider myself as Napoleon Solo or Illya Kuryakin. I was like a third agent. A secret part of the team as it were. It was easy to give the impression that I was successfully moving through crowds incognito. Very few of the adults knew me and they wouldn’t have given me another thought past “whose son is that ?”
I would slink onto the elevator – waiting to jump in just before the doors closed. Then I would slink from the elevator to the bathroom in the basement. I could slink with the best of them. Reaching the bathroom I whipped off my coat, quickly reversed my vest, and voilá, instant disguise. I had a pen – actually I had a lot of pens. Both of my aunts on my Dad’s side were elementary school teachers. They would give me a box full of the pens and fillers they had collected through the year. This particular pen looked cool when it was “reversed,” but only had imaginary functionality. It was how I contacted my fellow agents.
Having let the agents know my position and my plan I would slink out the bathroom and up the stairs (never take the same method of travel for the return trip). Then I would slink through the crowd (what did I tell you) popping up by my parents – and again, voilá – I was Dan Roark again. Amazingly enough, no one noticed the difference.
When we got back home I would go off and read a Hardy Boys mystery while planning my mission for the next Sunday. Basking in the glow of a mission accomplished.
Until we slink again….
Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.
Peace be with you.
Picture taken at my last show at World’s End Brewing.
I was looking at my tour calendar that I had been ignoring and hadn’t crossed out all the cancelled dates yet. Fortunately, most of the breweries I was going to play are still surviving. I’m still hoping to play a few shows at the end of the month. But I thought I would feature the breweries here and give a shout out to them.
World’s End Brewing in Canon City, Colorado, was where I was to begin and end my tour. It was – after all – my World’s End Tour. It’s a great little brewery on the corner. Tom Martinez and his wife – a sweet couple – run the brewery. They have delicious food to go along with their tasteful craft beers.
Bavarian pretzel sticks go with almost any beer. Cactus Needles are strips of jalapeno and sweet onion, battered and fried, with blackened ranch. World’s End also has the usual appetizers with their unique spin on them. Don’t expect your usual fried pickles. 
The entrees run the palate pleasing gamut from hot dogs and chili dogs, to Fish and Chips, wings and BLT, to build your own angus burger, salmon burger, a panini, to fruit and salads. Something to go with a variety of beers. Fortunately, World’s End has just such a variety. King’s Kona Stout is on the heavy end with coffee. They have a few fruit beers, currently Code Blue, Fairy Dust, and Frostberry.
The beer menu also usually includes a porter (Lethe’s Tears), a wheat beer (EJ-5), a kolsch (Reclamation), and a pale ale (Dragonspit). A few of my favorites – I have more – are the Suicide Blonde Bomber (blonde ale), Durty Leprechaun (Irish red ale), and the Dark Abockalypse (bock of course). Yet there’s more. When you’re in the area, check them out. If you can’t stop for while, grab some food and beer to go. You can order on the website before you get there. Either way, check out the beers they have. And tell Tom I said hi.
Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.
Peace be with you.
A random shot of me playing when I did that kind of thing.
Of course, live shows are out of the question for an undetermined length of time. And my period of social distancing long distances has also been extended for an undetermined length of time. Our friend, Sam, was interred this morning in Ft. Worth and I’ll be driving Sally back to Colorado. That’s just the way things work during the accelerated circumstances of our present reality.
Yet things have to continue in whatever form they can. In a previous post, I said that I received numerous emails – and still do – that tell me all the things I can do while quarantined. If anyone else wants to learn online, they probably already have a teacher. Then they said I could release new music. And I said (if you’ve been following along) “that I could do.”
And that time is approaching. As I said earlier, my plan was to release the final studio session of 
myself and Joel Nichols as Southern Plains – beginning with Bruce Gibson and so forth – with two unreleased songs from my Chasing After Wind sessions that we played as Southern Plains, but I did all the parts. Then I bought a cassette to digital device that allowed me to revive most of the Southern Plains recordings. I was anal about recording practices, shows, etc. back then. After I add songs to complete Southern Plains Revisited, who knows what recordings I’ll have for future releases. I should release the first single from the cd in the next few weeks.
But wait…there’s more! Stay tuned…
Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.
Peace be with you.
So I spent last week social distancing my butt to Colorado to pick up Sally and bring her back for her brother, Sam, to be interred in Ft. Worth. Due to Covid-19, it will only be Sally and her cousin at the graveside. Her older brother, Kenny, lives in the area, but he doesn’t get around well.
It was odd, but pleasant, making the long drive with very little traffic. You can make really good time when you rarely have to pass anyone. Driving through New Mexico – in the middle of freaking nowhere – two other drivers and I played a casual vehicle, bored drivers version of leap frog. In other words, we took turns passing each other.
The day after I arrived, we drove into Colorado Springs to pick up the death certificates. The traffic 
was not as heavy as “usual,” but considerably heavier than on the highway. We picked up barbecue from Front Range BBQ. I highly recommend them should you find yourselves in the area. We picked up a few more things on the way back to the house for the evening. On Thursday we headed back here to Farmers Branch. Sally took the first shift until her eyes went “wonky” as she put it.
It was nice to be in cooler weather before coming back to Texas heat. Sally enjoys the heat though- having been stuck in the house most of the winter. We’ll head back to Colorado when things are taken care of. I’ll hang out a couple of days – leaving time between driving days. Then I’ll come back here until Cyndy and I go up the end of the month. In the meantime, I’ll try to get back to the projects I was working on when we heard the news that Sam passed away. Stay tuned – it’s going to be interesting!
Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.
Peace be with you.
[If you like what you read and/or enjoy my music and what I do, feel free to let me know – Paypal.me/danroark]
This song and video is dedicated to Sam Shank. May he rest in peace.
I don’t mean I’m on the road, but I wish I was. I was supposed to start my tour the first of the month. The first half is shot to hell, and I’m not all that optimistic about the last half. And I’m just one of many. When I say on the road, I mean by myself in my van.
When this all began, I immediately began getting emails about how I, too, could teach music at home online. If I had an inclination to teach music online, I would already be doing it. And where would all the students come from? It’s been said that there is an increase of online learning, but that is across all subjects. The total would also have to include all of those at colleges, high schools, and lower grades who weren’t learning completely online before.
Then they said to take this time to sell more merchandise (I’m a writer – I refuse to call it “merch” – more than just that once). Merchandise didn’t fly out the door before, even for performers with a much larger fan base than mine. Besides, some of those who might buy some stuff are out of a job and on unemployment.
Then there’s the streaming thing. Everyone and his uncle are doing Facebook Live, videos on Instagram, Zoom concerts, and so forth. I don’t have the time to see all the “live shows” because I’m too busy doing other things. So why would I expect a lot of people to be able to watch my “live shows”?
Then they said to release new material. Well that I can do. I was about to release my EP, Southern Plains Revisited, right before my tour began. Joel Nichols, Bruce Gibson, and myself, were Southern Plains. When the gig paid enough, we had bass and drums. Joel and I were a duo for most of the nearly twenty-five years of Southern Plains. With all the extra time currently available, I was able to digitize some of the cassettes and tapes from those days and now have enough material for a full cd rather than just the EP of our last recording session before Joel died. Possibly enough material for future releases. I’ll be releasing music from that project shortly.
My, son, Conner, and I put the finishing touches on the L.A. Sessions cd while in quarantine in Iowa a couple of weeks ago. It includes the remastered songs from my Hello Out There cd in addition to the rest of the songs from that session. It will be released later this year. We also laid down the basic tracks for another cd. Look for new songs throughout the next year. All songs and cds are on the Refrigerator Records label.
While I feel that the streaming game is not for me, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to play for you. When I get my home studio back up to speed, I plan to start a podcast so you can hear it anytime while you’re doing other things. I will also be releasing songs and videos along the way.
Come along for the journey. It’ll be fun!
Oh, and if you like what you read or enjoy what I do, please let me know – paypal.me/danroark.
Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.
Peace be with you.
Picture taken at the last show of mine Sam got to see.
Our next door neighbors, Richard and Dottie Powell, lived there long before Cyndy and I moved in with our sons thirteen years ago. They’ve known Cyndy since she was born. Richard has had health problems for a number of years. He passed away a week and a half ago. They were able to have a funeral, but with limited attendees and grave site visitors, leaving others to mourn at home unable to attend. Which was just one of the many unrelated deaths during the pandemic that is/was not given the funeral or memorial service they deserve(d).
Our friends, Sam and Sally Shank – brother and sister – retired and bought a house together in Colorado. They’ve had a chance to travel in the past year and were settling in after living there only a couple of years. Sam had some tests done recently and was waiting on the results. They were regular tests and there were no alarms.
Sunday afternoon, I came back from an essential errand. I opened the front door and thought I heard Cyndy holler – at me I thought. But I had just walked in. She had her headphones on and was talking to Sally on the phone. I came in late in the conversation and had no idea what they were talking about. It sounded like a normal conversation between the two. I wasn’t really listening anyway. Cyndy was talking loud.
When the conversation ended, Cyndy came into the den where I was working at my desk and stood looking at me. I looked up and she told me Sam had passed away late Saturday night. He was only 68 and, like I say, there were no alarms. The coroner thought it looked like a heart attack.
Sally’s sight is not the best. Cyndy and I will do everything we can to help. Our boys call her Aunt Sally. When they release Sam’s body, he’ll be sent back to Ft. Worth for burial. The graveside service will be small enough to fit the restrictions.
But Sam shouldn’t have left so early. I’m going to miss liking his posts on Facebook, and getting messages from him. Cyndy and I were planning to visit them in May. One of the songs Conner and I did the music video of in the hotel in Iowa is Foxes in the Henhouse. I’ve been trying to play it for him since I wrote it. I haven’t been playing it in my live show. I was going to post it and tag him. Now I’ll post the video and dedicate it to him. He would really appreciate the song. And I’ll be thinking of him.
Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.
Peace be with you.
The first week of isolation, I lamented the loss of shows and wondered if the places I played around the country – primarily breweries and craft beer bars – would survive for me to play there again. I thought of things I could be doing, but then went back to the lamenting and the wondering. I could still support the local breweries. I could still to “essential” things (albeit being careful). I could drive around for a bit if I wanted to – not getting out of the car. But I couldn’t get out of my own head. Or more correctly, get back to my happy place. The current path is filled with a mixture of anxiety and panic, in just enough strength to be a pain in the ass. I had a live streaming gig in the Starving Artist Festival benefiItting Feeding America that Saturday. So I had something to practice for.
The second week our oldest son, Conner, was down from Des Moines isolating with us, so I could do some recording with him for upcoming projects. I came up with a solid plan for what to do going forward and proceeded to do nothing about it. The funny thing is, except for playing shows, I didn’t leave the house a lot anyway (although shows could run into weeks). Cyndy works at home and didn’t either. But it was the few times we did that mattered. Cyndy’s groups, my groups, church on Sundays, and so forth. But when you’re told you can’t do something, you want to do it more. The Zoom meetings help, but it’s not the same.
The third week Conner and I did some recording before he packed everything up and I took him back to Des Moines. We stopped at two travel centers, a CBD shop, and drove through a Chick-fil-a. I isolated with him at his house and did some more recording. He works maintenance at Adventureland Hotel. They are closed and the hotel was sterilized by the employees before they left and filed for unemployment. There is a restaurant that still does carryout. So the maintenance staff is equal parts maintenance and security. We recorded one night in the cabana room. We also filmed a few songs, so I’ll be releasing those videos when the editing is finished.
I was looking forward to the drive back home alone. It wasn’t on the way to or from a show, but it gave me time to think. Bullshit! It rained from Des Moines, Iowa, to Lawrence, Kansas. Which I can tell you is a long freaking way. Not only was I not getting out of my head – or simply making it a more comfortable place to be in – I found myself locked inside with the key on the outside. It’s a good thing I don’t have serious depression, because that was freaking depressing. Fortunately, when I reached Oklahoma, the sun was at least trying to break through, which was something. Then there’s that whole, I can’t really get out of the van thing.
And now I’m home, still in isolation, and healthy, thank God. But I’m working on the the plan I came up with in the first place. By myself and in conjunction with Conner. I hope you’ll join us on the journey. This post represents the start of that plan. Stay tuned and stay safe.
Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.
Peace be with you.
I was driving to Chattanooga last Wednesday for my show on Thursday at Big Frog Brewing. I was approaching West Memphis when I put the window down to get something off of my hand while I kept the other hand on the wheel. I tried to put it up when it stopped and slowly went all the way down. In the midst of the up and down movement of the window, I heard a crunching sound in the door. Which couldn’t be good.
So I’m driving down the road at 70 miles an hour in 34 degree weather with no window. I pulled into a Love’s and parked in front of the door. I ran inside to the restroom and back out as fast as I could. I called my son, Cameron. He called around and found a Firestone on the east side of Memphis that was still open. If they couldn’t fix it, they could get the window up and tape it in place.
Another 50 minutes of driving in decreasing temperatures and I was at the Firestone. I just asked if they would get it up and tape it. Cameron and would fix it after I got home. They did the best they could – they said – but there was still a gap at the top. I stopped at a larger Love’s. It was either duct tape, electrical tape, or packing tape. A few minutes later, I was taping my window like the last package I mailed – except sloppier because of the angles. Yet it worked.
I drove on to Chattanooga and checked in at the hotel. I spent the rest of the trip feeling like I was driving inside a wind tunnel with the radio cranked.
Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.
Peace be with you.
Chasing After Wind 