Dear reader, thanks again for stopping by. Freebies - Art and words from the museum. https://davidlwhite.substack.com/p/freebie *_____________________ RADIO FREE DAVID _____________________ * Measuring Moments Perhaps some sort of a meter Washing organic blueberries This pot simmering … © David L White *_____________________ RADIO FREE DAVID _____________________ * Forever Assured We … © David L White *_____________________ RADIO FREE DAVID _____________________ * The Calling Somewhere in the ninth grade timeline I quit my bicycle paper route and started working part time for my grandparents in their mom and Pop restaurant. Grandpa taught me how to boil water. He certainly set the bar for pizza, Italian Beef, and bullshi …, I mean, storytelling. Grandma Rachel paid for piano lessons when I was ten to twelve years old. I was my grandmother’s first grandson. Funding was redirected as other babies came along. I remember the first time I could reach an octave on one hand. It was 1965 and Lara’s Theme from Doctor Zhivago. A line that Waylon Jennings wrote in the second verse of his song Amanda was “I got my first guitar when I was 14.” I do have a soft spot for that … every time it goes by. I got my first guitar when I was fourteen. My friend Jay and I wrote a few songs. He played beatbox on his trumpet case and had a reel to reel tape recorder. We wrote some songs. I’ve written a few songs. Apparently it did not spark enough of a fire in me to explore performing. I didn’t really want to lug the amp. I also do not haul around my books or art in the car. The real pleasure is in the creation itself. And, also in the ninth grade, we had a Spanish teacher who was perhaps fresh out of college and probably on some teacher exchange program. She was from Argentina. We had a semester long project in which I wrote two short poems. In Spanish. I took a whole semester to write two short poems. In Spanish. There was a lot of looking out the window. In Wisconsin. She seemed so impressed with my usage of her native language that she made copies of the poems and sent them to her professor in Buenos Aires. My memory tells me that he sent back a thumbs up. There’s no one to check with about that anymore. The poems are gone, but the intent of them, that I should have a peaceful life, remains with me. So far so good. It seems safe to say that’s when I started writing. What is still not clear is why I think you might be interested in thoughts that pass through me. Perhaps to some degree we are all interested in comparing notes about this weird and mostly wonderful life. I do remember, from a bit of poetry from English class, that I did not hear a voice that resonated with me. I did not hear my voice. So I began to speak. … Recently, a fellow I’ve some acquaintance with for nearly thirty years, asked what I’m up to after a few years of retirement. I said “reading and writing” and you should have seen him screw up his face. I was as surprised as he seemed to be. Bewilderment for both of us. Really? Are you kidding? … Yesterday in church a young woman, new member as of this last year, has heard the call again; having started for her in ninth grade. She is moving on into ministry elsewhere. God speed, girl. Hearing her speak of the call, several times since the ninth grade, resonated with me as I had only written these words for this piece the day before. Perhaps I took a call from the Muses.
*_____________________ RADIO FREE DAVID _____________________ * That’s it for the moment. David P.S. Don’t forget to look at the freebies. P.S.S. My first ATC, or Artist Trading Card.
Thank you for visiting. Take some time for your self.
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Friday, August 22, 2025
Late August ’25
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