No More Tomorrows

The title of this weeks’ original song was actually a collaboration between my brother Ed and I. Ed had the melody bouncing around his gourd and had started on the lyrics. I basically finished the melody and added a chorus. We finished the lyrics together over a bottle of Stolichnaya and some Marin County Greenbud. The year was 1985. I never jammed with my brother. He spoke of playing gigs in a band in Long Beach where he was working as an accountant. Blues harp player. I have decided that as soon as this whole pandemic thing is over, I am going to get some lead guitar lessons. I still believe I have at least one more blues, rock, or country band left in me.

66 is not too young to start, and it is def too young to quit!

It is a song about loss and unfulfilled love, subjects that any true romantic are all too familiar with. Tomorrow has always been a beacon of hope and new possibilities with each dawn and this song kind of made me cry. I am working on adding a climb into a final chorus and chord change to complete it. I’ll keep you posted and will post the finished product when I do. Please let me know what you think.


Despite my extremely smooth line of bullshit, I don’t know a thing about love. I know it is a state of being that I have been in (and around) for around 35 years. 6/21/87 was the day it became official, but Karen knows (as EVERY woman knows, the exact second of the day, what both of us were wearing, where the planets were aligned, etc. etc. Females, how the hell do you do that? You can’t remember where you put a winning lottery ticket, but you saw that my left sleeve had two small wrinkles 35 years ago? She likes to tell this cute little story how when she first met me, my polo shirt I was wearing was wrinkled and that is how she knew I needed a woman. That is total bullshit. I was a good bachelor; scratch that. I was good at being a bachelor. I would never leave my “pad” in a wrinkled shirt.

What she likes to skim over in her selective recollection of the events surrounding our first date, is the fact that when she came up to my table on the patio of a little Italian Ristorante in Santa Barbara, I was getting up to leave with two girls that I started engaging with when my date was 15 minutes late.

Best two moves I never made.

Stay well.

Published by maddogg09

I am an unmotivated genius with an extreme love for anything that moves the emotional needles of our lives.

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