Tag Archive: Daniel Roark


I’m doing a Colorado album release show and a Dallas album release show for Southern Plains Revisited. While the show at World’s End Brewing in Canon City, Colorado on November 20 will include some songs of John Prine, the album release at Poor David’s Pub on December 4 will be just mine and John’s songs in a more intimate setting. It will also be livestreamed on the Poor David’s Pub Facebook page as well as my own. Up to 30 people will be able to see the show in person, following social distancing rules, and donating. The club can comfortably hold 300, so there is more than enough room to spread out. If you are interested in seeing my show live, please contact david@poordavidspub.com. We would love to see you.

Tickets to the livestream are $10 and are available on my website. All tickets include a download of the album when it becomes available. Currently, it will only be available as a download and will be available in all the usual places online on November 20. In John Prine’s honor, a major portion of the proceeds from ticket sales will go to Poor David’s Pub to help David Card keep the doors open. The Pub has been around for 43 years and we’d like to see many more years of shows at the iconic venue.

Keep writing the songs that are on your heart.

Peace be with you.

paypal.me/danroark

 

 

 

The memorial for Mr. Troll (Danny Ramon Mallow) in the parking lot of Poor David’s Pub was enjoyable, successful, social distanced, and appropriate. There was a ceremony before the memorial in which they marked his spot in the cactus garden with his picture and bowler hat for the memorial.

I had the honor of starting the show following the host, Rob Case. Thanks to Anni Howe, I have pictures. You can watch the whole thing here. We were playing on the stage from Bill’s Records and Tapes. Which was appropriate considering Troll had showcases at Bill’s on that stage.

Speaking of Mr. Troll, and Poor David’s Pub, you can see a number of the performers from the memorial “live” on Monday nights at 7 p.m. CST on the Rob Case’s Open Mic – Poor David’s Pub Facebook page. It’s always a good show and donations split between Poor David’s Pub and the Kerrville Folk Festival.                                                                                                                     

And, in the spirit of shameless self promotion, I have a show at Poor David’s Pub on Friday, December 4. More information in the next post.

Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.

Peace be with you.

paypal.me/danroark

 

 

I pulled into the parking space in front of the Carriage Factory Art Gallery in Newton, Kansas on Thursday, November 5, about 2 p.m. My cousins, Tom and Beth Burns, and Beth’s daughter, Ellie Bradley, have an exhibit of their artwork in a gallery upstairs. Their exhibit is titled Art From the Pandemic.

I set up for my livestream – which was to replace the live show I was supposed to do for the opening that never happened due to you know what – and had time to take pictures of my cousins’ art. The livestream went well, but the video isn’t the best due to bandwidth issues – it was Newton, Kansas, after all. But the sound is pretty good.

I didn’t get to visit with Beth and her family. Aunt Edna lives on the other side of the house. Edna just turned 90, so we erred on the side of caution. We had seen each other on the Zoom call for Edna’s birthday a couple of weeks earlier.  I did get to stop off on the way home on Friday and visit with Tom in Oklahoma.

A sculpture of Ellie’s I bought. I think it’s a cross between Tom and Jeff Dunham’s Walter.

Beth’s paintings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some of Tom’s paintings and Ellie’s sculptures

 

 

 

 

Ellie’s sculptures – on the table are the Three Heads. The one that is now on my desk is on the right.

 

 

Beth’s paintings

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tom’s paintings

 

Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.

Peace be with you.

paypal.me/danroark

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Except for playing Zoom open mics for almost nine months now, I was late to the livestream train. I’ve stuttered all my life and I hate talking on the phone because I can’t look them in the eye. So performing to a camera and interacting with people I’m not sure are there was a daunting task. But I’ve played live long enough to be able to get past that. It’s just that having all this freaking time on my hands has made it hard to follow a thought at times. Then there are the times I can’t stop the thoughts from coming en masse at top speed.

That’s just an explanation, not the pitfalls I was referring to. Doing a livestream from home with my home studio setup results in minimal problems. Except, of course, for operator error, which causes me to exclaim to myself out loud, “way to go, dumbass!” The reason there are few to no problems is because I control the variables. When I’m at our friend, Sally’s, house, the point is the same with the exception of occasional lapse in wifi reception.

Hotels aren’t too bad if I use my hotspot as long as they aren’t out in the middle of nowhere. The acoustics are obviously good and I can get all the light I need. At one hotel, I got a notice that there was not enough bandwidth, but it didn’t seem to effect the livestream. That was also the Monday night Songwriters Benefit for Poor David’s Pub and the Kerrville Folk Festival hosted by Rob Case, so it was about four hours. Which would explain that.

But in places like breweries the variables increase. The noise and electricity of the brewing and cooking equipment for example. Reception even with my hotspot was dicey – it was in the mountains. The video sucked and the sound cut in and out. But I didn’t know that until I tried to watch it the next day. One of the major problems/variables is that I’m doing it myself and don’t have anyone to man the computer while I’m playing. The second brewery I tried a livestream in, the video was perfect, but the sound was garbled.

I think I know what the problem was. But I’ve already called myself a dumbass over it at least three times, so I’m not going to further my own embarrassment by telling you what it was. If you make sure what should be turned off is off, and what should be turned on is on, you won’t repeat that particular issue. That is – if that’s what it was. Which comes back to knowing the variables. Which I didn’t and don’t as far as the two breweries.

But pitfalls be damned! I’ll keep getting back on that horse. I have a livestream on Thursday, Nov. 5th at 3:30 p.m. in the Carriage Factory Art Gallery in Newton, Kansas. My cousins Tom and Beth Burns, and Beth’s daughter, Ellie, have an exhibit of their art work there. I was supposed to play at the opening, but guess what screwed that all to hell? I wanted to see the exhibit before it closes and the livestream takes place of the opening show.

There will be more livestreams. Hopefully, each one will go smoother than the last one. But, oh, those variables!

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Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.

Peace be with you.

paypal.me/danroark

 

 

 

Even though my World’s End Tour is largely livestream events at this point, I thought I needed some kind of merchandise. And what would be more appropriate for this year but masks?

They are available in the store on my website. They are $12 and include a download of my live album, Peace Be With You. Additionally, a percentage of the profit will go to a venue or craft brewery in need of help to stay open.

Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.

Peace be with you.

paypal.me/danroark

 

 

 

This Friday, October 30, I will be doing a livestream at 5:30 p.m. CT on my YouTube channel and Facebook page. I will be playing songs, telling stories, and talking about the beer at Bitter Sisters Brewery. I will be displaying my virtual tip jar and all donations during the show will go to Bitter Sisters, unless otherwise noted.

You can buy beer from Bitter Sisters Mon.-Fri. 4-7 p.m, Sat. 2-7 p.m. and Sunday 2-6 p.m. So after my show, if the beers sound good to you, you still have time to get to the brewery to buy beer – depending on how far you live from Addison.

Or take a day trip on Saturday and pick up some beer for watching the moon Halloween night. Not only is it a blue moon, but it will be visible to the whole world for the first time since since World War II.  A Bitter Sisters beer would make it all that much more pleasant.

So tune in Friday evening, listen to some tunes and beer talk, and show your support for craft breweries, music venues, and family businesses.  #SaveOurStages  #SaveCraftBreweries

Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.

Peace be with you.

paypal.me/danroark 

 

 

 

For those of you just tuning in, the World’s End Tour that I had to cancel earlier in the year was to begin and end at World’s End Brewing in Canon City, Colorado. I thought calling it the World’s End Tour was perfect during this bullshit (collectively, but feel free to pick up to two). Fortunately, Tom Martinez from World’s End Brewing sent me a text asking if I wanted to play in October – he was doing social distance shows.

I played on Saturday, the 10th, and the crowd, though small and changing through the evening, were appreciative and responsive to my show. I also had a virtual mini tour throughout the weekend from hotel rooms and a friend’s house. The mini tour ended on Monday night, the 12th, with Rob Case’s Virtual Open Mic benefiting Poor David’s Pub and the Kerrville Folk Festival.

The open mic – which started out good – is now a smooth running show made up of great songwriters. I include my appearance on the show as part of my tour, although I only play about fifteen minutes. Any exposure I can help give the open mic (please share by the way) is all that much better.

Live shows are slowly returning and will continue to do so (albeit slowly). However, if we don’t help the venues out, there may be a lot fewer places to play. Same with the craft breweries. Some places have already given up the fight.

I’m returning to World’s End Brewing on the 20th of November. In the meantime I’ll be playing livestream shows at venues and breweries in support of the #SaveOurStages and #SaveCraftBreweries movements. I don’t know if the second one is a real movement other than just Cyndy and I, but I want to do my part.

More on that later, but for the moment, plan to listen in and watch the open mic on Facebook – tonight and every Monday night. Don’t forget to donate what you can. Donations will be split between Poor David’s Pub and Kerrville Folk Festival. Tonight is the Halloween version with a costume contest and you don’t have to play to enter the contest. Message Rob on the open mic page for the Zoom info.

Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.

Peace be with you.

paypal.me/danroark

 

 

916 Acklen Ave., in Nashville

[Read Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine]

Okay, so it was more a skirmish than a war, but it could have escalated into a war.

Most of the time we lived at 916 Acklen Ave. an older African American woman lived downstairs. Ms. Patricia, as we called her at her request, would sit on the top step of the front stairs and watch the world go by – at least the people on the street.

There was a gas station down on the corner that had acceptable greasy fried chicken and great potato wedges, if they cooked them enough. We’re talking actual wedges of a freaking potato, not the miniature things in the frozen food section or fast food places. And it was pretty cheap so it wasn’t unusual that we would frequent the place to avoid the “what should we have tonight” conundrum.

When we left to walk down to the gas station, Ms. Patricia would give us a couple of dollars and ask us to get her a quart of beer. She never accepted the change. From what we could ever ascertain, she preferred to be called Ms. Patricia because she hadn’t had a last name she liked or could relate herself to.

Then for some reason, Ms. Patricia moved out and Martin moved in. Sonja, our other roommate at the time, began dating Martin. As it turned out, Martin sold pot. Which at first was a good thing. When he got a shipment in, he would give us free product to help him break up the bricks into baggies. We didn’t think grass was all he was selling. Which made me nervous. However, having no frame of reference, we didn’t know to be wary and worried. (Did I say we were young and stupid?)

Turns out a neighborhood gang did not appreciate Martin – and us by extension – selling to their customers. Since we didn’t do any selling, or buying for that matter, we had no idea. Until one late afternoon when we were hanging around in our apartment upstairs. Assumably, Martin was downstairs.

Suddenly we heard the screech of tires. It sounded like someone was doing donuts in the street – which wasn’t too far off. Whoever was in the old Cadillac was making sure we all had time to get to the window with the rest of the neighborhood. One more reverse laying of tread in the street, then forward, a hard right, and then they rammed into the side of Martin’s car. It was the closest I’ve ever been to a gang war. But it wasn’t really a war because Martin wasn’t in a gang. It was more of a warning statement.

We decided we would just stay in for the rest of the night, staying clear of Martin. Not surprisingly, he wasn’t around too much longer after that. We went back to being harmless musicians and college students to the neighborhood.

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Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.

Peace be with you.

paypal.me/danroark

 

 

 

Tune in tonight and every Monday night for a stellar show of songwriters performing their songs. On Mondays they perform to benefit Poor David’s Pub and the Kerrville Folk Festival – two of Texas’ oldest continually operating venues. All venues across the country – and, indeed, the world – need assistance. We can only focus on local venues. Thankfully, due to Save Our Stages efforts and concerts, songwriters across the country are doing the same thing in their small way to save the venues.

So grab a cold beverage and maybe something to eat, then go to Rob Case’s Open Mic Facebook page at 7 p.m. Central time. Settle in and watch a line up of seasoned songwriters playing their songs. Tonight’s line up is in the picture to the right or above, depending on your device. I play at 10:15 – just sayin’.

And please, don’t forget to donate. The donations are split between the two venues and they could use your help. The donation links are also in the picture. Please be generous – let’s make sure when this crap is through we still have places to play.

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Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.

Peace be with you.

paypal.me/danroark

[See part one, two, or three] “I was driving to Bossier City to do a little gambling. I knew it was, well, a gamble, but I was getting desperate and needed money. I wasn’t going to be stupid about it – I had a limit. But I was worried about losing, having nothing to show for it, and having it end up on the list of bad choices that for some reason I always had trouble avoiding. I was listening to the radio and trying not to think about it when the tire blew.

I replaced the blown tire with the factory “donut” in the trunk, knowing I was on borrowed time to get a replacement. My budget blew with the tire if I couldn’t get it fixed cheap. Putting the flat tire in the trunk, I got in and started the car. At the same time, the passenger door opened and a man fell into the seat with a pistol pointed at me.

He told me to drive and I drove. I’m already on probation for being stupid in public and I didn’t want to end up dead or in jail. He said he just broke out of jail. He rambled on about being set up for the charge of assault with a deadly weapon. Which I thought a little weird since he was doing just that with me. But I kept driving.

We were just coming around a curve when he hit my shoulder and told me to pull in to the gas station on the left. Which I did, barely avoiding a gray Prius pulling out of the station.

I managed to pull up to the pump without colliding with anything more important than the trash can. It did not fall over, but I knocked it into the other side of the pump. After which a car coming in from the other direction knocked it nearly back in place. As I shifted into park, he handed me a Visa credit card with a name I was pretty damn sure wasn’t his. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask him.

“Use it like a credit card and fill up the tank. The zip code is 75234. Then go inside and go to the blonde behind the food counter. Tell her you need two barbecue sandwiches with regular chips and waters on the fly. Say it just like that. She’ll know what to do.”

“I hate to bring this up, but I’m going to need to get my tire fixed. This donut isn’t going to last much longer.”

“Fill the tank up and I’ll let you know.” He turned to his phone and  began to send a text as I was getting the gas.

“Get in and back into the bay and the mechanic will fix the tire,” he said as I looked into the car after filling the gas tank.

Which I did and the mechanic did, putting the tire on the car and the donut in the trunk. All while my inconvenient passenger was sitting in the car, and I stood nervously by. I got in the car, started it, pulled out of the bay and stopped, putting the car in park. I turned and looked at the guy.

“Should I get the sandwiches now?”

“Of course, do you remember what to say”

“I’ve got it.”

And I did. I walked into the station and went straight to the food counter.

“May I help you?” the blonde asked.

“I need two barbecue sandwiches with regular chips and waters on the fly.” By now I was getting kinda hungry. I knew it must be some sort of code, but I hoped the sandwiches were real. I didn’t know what the hell was going to happen and it never hurts to have barbecue first. Fortunately, she handed me the food and waters. Unfortunately, things began to take a nasty turn.

When I got back to the car, my passenger was now the driver. He motioned for me to get in the back seat. As I was opening the door, I heard the shots. I was in the car and closing the door when the blonde came running out of the gas station with a gun in her left hand and a bag in the right.

“Let’s go, Pete,” she said to the driver as she jumped into the passenger seat.

“I thought we weren’t going to use names, Sharon.”

” Just drive.”

I’m thinking, well great, I just ran into a modern day Bonnie and freaking Clyde. Talk about bad choices and bad luck. I was better than fifty percent positive I wasn’t going to get to Bossier City. I was hoping I would get to keep the money I had on me.

I saw the speed trap coming. Pete didn’t. Apparently, neither did Sharon.

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Keep writing the songs that are in your heart.

Peace be with you.

paypal.me/danroark