Category: Writing

Allen the Alien, Chapter 11

Allen walked into Fearless Leader’s chambers and saw the great one with a familiar shaggy blue figure.

“Barada, old friend!” he cried. “What are you doing here?”

“Ask the boss,” said his old friend.

Fearless Leader cleared his throat. “I have come to a decision.’

“Why don’t I like the sound of that?” said Allen.

“Don’t be silly, I have not decided to destroy your silly Earth,” said Fearless Leader. “But I have been doing additional research, and I conclude that we must keep an eye on this violent world.”

“That is apparently where I come in,” Barada said. “I have a very particular set of skills that may come in handy.”

“You are a great warrior,” Allen said. “We’re not going to war with Earth, are we?”

“Ha, ha, ha,” Fearless Leader said with a mirthless smile on his face. “Let me tell you about my research. Seventy-five years ago, another civilization sent an emissary to Earth in hopes of forming a peaceful alliance. He was shot.”

“Good heavens,” Allen said.

“Fortunately, they had the technology to save him, but he left behind a sentry, named Klaatu, to monitor the world and keep the peace.”

Allen knew the story from his training as the emissary to Earth, and he knew the sentry was named Gort and the other civilization’s emissary was the one named Klaatu, but Allen also knew better than to contradict Fearless Leader.

“It’s my understanding that the sentry is still here, patrolling the Earth,” Allen said.

“Yes, but it can only do so much, and so occasionally conflicts continue to flair up around the planet,” Fearless Leader said. “I have asked Barada to stay here on Earth, and I have summoned Nickola, another one of our mightiest warriors, to serve as his assistant.”

“So, three sentries to monitor Earth — Klaatu, Barada, and Nick, too?” Allen said.

“Yes, and if they threaten to extend their violence beyond this planet, this Earth of theirs will be reduced to a burned-out cinder,” said the grim-faced Leader.

“That’s the gist of it,” Barada said.

“Are you sure the situation requires such an extreme approach?” Allen said. Barada gasped.

“I am sure,” Fearless Leader said evenly. “Am I to understand you are questioning my judgment?”

“No, no, not at all,” said Allen. “I, um, simply wanted to be clear.”

“It is my understanding that some sort of celebration is planned in the near future — something called a Halloween party.”

“That’s correct.”

“You will bring Barada to this party and explain the situation to their emissary, this Ellie,” said Fearless Leader. “Then we can begin preparations to head home.”

“As you wish.”

Fearless Leader left the chamber without another word. Allen exhaled and wondered how long he had been holding his breath.

To be heard

My dreams of reaching thousands with my words and/or music, or selling enough books and recordings to live on — well, they remain just dreams.

“Tell a story,” my self-editor murmurs. “People want to hear a story.” But the audience dips for the posts with an ongoing story, if I am to believe the almighty ANALYTICS.

My main story and message are about finally hearing the still, small voice whispering, “Love God and love your neighbor as yourself — upon these two commandments lays the whole of the law.”

And every day the news couriers relay word of a neglected God and hate for our neighbors — and few are as hateful as the ones who point their fingers and accuse their neighbors of hatred and bigotry, so blind they cannot see their own hatred and their flaming bigotry.

Yet I have no more right to be heard than anyone else. There is a board in my eye, so how can I criticize the speck in my neighbor’s eye? “You started it!” we shout at each other. “When your guy does it, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with it,” and round and round we go and no one listens.

I would rather tell stories and make music, and listen to stories and other people’s songs. I would rather be “too busy singing to put anybody down.” Is that any way to be heard? 

Is it that important to be heard? Well, yes, if I want people to hear that beautiful still, small voice with its important message. We are all neighbors, remember. You do remember, don’t you? Under all the shouting is that most important whisper: We are all neighbors.

Why stop at 9?

The latest social media “thing” is a tic-tac-toe grid of nine record album covers with the label “My 9 Albums.” The idea is to show the nine albums that best explain your listening life — some people use the subtitle “Nine albums that made me.”

As a chronic listener, I would probably be lost if I had to choose only nine albums that changed the trajectory of my life. Let me consult the Wayback Machine …

The Famous 1938 Carnegie Hall Jazz Concert – Benny Goodman

Neil Sedaka Sings His Greatest Hits – Neil Sedaka

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band – The Beatles

On the Threshold of a Dream – The Moody Blues

Headquarters – The Monkees

The Beatles (The White Album)

Ladies of the Canyon – Joni Mitchell

John B. Sebastian

Bayou Country – Creedence Clearwater Revival

Led Zeppelin IV

Blue – Joni Mitchell

Thick As A Brick – Jethro Tull

Cosmo’s Factory – Creedence Clearwater Revival

Uncle Charlie and His Dog Teddy – Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

Judee Sill

Paralellograms – Linda Perhacs

John Kongos

Will the Circle Be Unbroken – Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and Friends

Bachman Turner Overdrive

Not Fragile – Bachman Turner Overdrive

Band on the Run – Paul McCartney & Wings

Born to Run – Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band

Songs From the Wood – Jethro Tull

Star Wars soundtrack – John Williams

Age to Age – Amy Grant

E.T. the Extraterrestrial soundtrack – John Williams

More Power to Ya – Petra

Sunday’s Child – Phil Keaggy

Crimson and Blue – Phil Keaggy

Wildflowers – Tom Petty

Cracked Rear View – Hootie & the Blowfish

Mirror Ball – Neil Young

Conversations – Sara Groves

Imagination – Brian Wilson

O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack

Brian Wilson Presents Smile

Add to the Beauty – Sara Groves

Circlin’ Back – Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and Friends

Know – Jason Mraz

Dandelion – Ella Langley

See what I mean? I could come up with nine albums that boggled my mind without leaving the sixties. I could write a post about how each of these albums blew me away — in many cases I already have. And I’m pretty sure I have forgotten a dozen or so albums that belong on this list. 

But it’s a fun exercise and a good reminder of the value of the album as a music form. Now that I think of it, maybe I’ll fire up the turntable for a few hours.