I HAVE BEEN WRITING A COLUMN FOR "MARQ'S TEXAS MUSIC KITCHEN" CALLED "OBSERVATIONS AND MEDICATIONS" THAT IS A COMBINATION OF CD AND BOOK REVIEWS AND GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON MUSIC, SOCIETY AND LIFE....HERE ARE SOME OF THEM REPRINTED, IN CASE YOU MISSED THEM THE FIRST TIME AROUND....

Getting a new album from Paul Simon at this time is like walking to the

mailbox and finding a letter from an old friend you had not forgotten,

just not heard from in a long time.If you are roughly

near my age [born in the mid-century], this man and his songs meant alot....

and still do. From The Sounds of Silence to hitchhiking and choking back a

tear as I shouted the words to Homeward Bound at passing cars; to America

[Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike]; to the whole Graduate

Soundtrack album with the whole damn country singing along to Mrs. Robinson;

and up to Bridge Over Troubled Water, an anthem, a hymn, a song as majestic

as anything ever written and recorded.....this man wrote songs that were the

background music, the soundtrack to our lives.....And that's before we get

to the solo albums; the quirky and the murky, the lyrics that just rolled

off the tongue and into the ear just oh,so smoothly that you didn't care if

they meant something or if he just did it cause it sounded good....And then

the Nineties where Paul brought in The World to be his arrangers and

sidemen....From South America to Africa, using rhythms and instruments that

America just didn't know yet....at least not on their car radios...

And now; a new century, a new aching in our hearts; a different

world, caught up in the digital-no wars-no real Communist threat-no real

good central radio station where you could hear more than one genre at a

time kind of world; that's the world this bright , spanking new baby is

"That's Where I Belong" opens with a haunting, lovely bamboo flute

and a little soft burst of thunder that leads to the first sound of

voice...."Somewhere in a burst of glory...Sound becomes a song....I'm bound

to tell a story....That's where I belong."Is how he starts it and right away

you get a little chill cause you're glad you're there and you know it's

gonna be good....Singing as good as ever, expressively, beautifully; going

up impossibly high at times....The strange rhythms are here, the squirrelly

lyrics...."A spiny little island man plays a jingling banjo. He's walking

down a dirt road carrying his radio, To a river where the water meets the

"Darling Lorraine" is a couple's life story; a full-fledged movie

in six minutes; from first-glance romance to sick of you, to Christmas

morning as old marrieds, to painful disease and loss...But he does something

in the middle that is as different and unique as I've ever heard.....He

stops the song as it is and says, "WHAT-You don't love me anymore?" in a way

I've never heard anybody do before....It really takes you by surprise....and

"Old" is another one that just takes normal song structure and

phrasing and "the way it's always been done" and throws it out the

window....It starts with a Not Fade Away riff and talks about hearing Peggy

"You're The One" is a boppin thing, moving and swaying like some of

his work from One Trick Pony.....Steve Gadd,the principal drummer is the

There are a string of songs with metaphysical ideas, in the

middle:not strange or anything, just extra- ordinary in some of the

themes...."Drop a stone in the abyss, then walk away and know that anything

can happen..." And a song with such a great title, "Senorita with a Necklace

of Tears..."that you already know it's gonna be good....

Pigs,Sheep and Wolves is, again, like nothing you've ever heard

before....Like a Disney cartoon made for Court TV.....If you think that is a

strange description or I'm overstating it,wait till you hear the song....

After an entire album of unique rhythms and intricate drumming, at

the end, we have a song with NO drums at all; in fact, NO rhythm at all,

just a pump organ and a few esoteric instruments....."Quiet" is like a

prayer,a Psalm of David, is just what it reminds me of...." I am heading for

a time of quiet, When my restlessness is past and I can lie down on my

blanket, and release my fists at last..." Wow,Psalm XXIV; biblical in feel,

So, Rhymin Simon is back,and yet not....it's the guy we've always

known, he's just got some new tricks, some new ways to carry the wine to the

thirsty, some new languages to communicate with the deaf out there, to

irrigate this vast desert during the drought....You're gonna love this,

wherever you are and whatever you usually like, you're gonna love this....I

know you don't know me,but if you did: Have I ever lied to you before?

High Stool Graduate, with Honors for Refining Irreverencies

"Last night, my Bessie and me, we put Spike Jones on the box....."

Okay, not really; that's just The Band singing; Uncle Levon calling from the

passed (sic), from Cripple Creek.... But, what I did watch was my video of

"Sunday in the Park With George," the wonderful early Eighties play by Stephen

Sondheim starring Bernadette Peters and the magnificent Mandy Patinkin.... Why,

you may ask, does anybody reading this magazine, give a good yahoo about that?

Here's the deal, folkies...... About once a year, I trot out certain "Great

Videos of my Life" (trumpet blares, tadadadaaaaaa)....... Oh, "Local Hero,"

"West Side Story," "Ken Burn's Baseball" (all nine Innings), and maybe even "A

Hard Day's Night" if I'm feeling particularly sprightly.....

One of these is "Sunday ITPWG" (see, even I can be hip and use

computerspeak, too, HAH !) This play is about Georges (funny thing, here, in

that his Name is GEORGES, but in the title he is just GEORGE) Seurat, a French

painter from the 1880's, who, even though he seems to have merged science and

art and invented a whole new class of Art called Pointillism, was reputed to

have Never sold a painting while alive.... And I'm quite sure that HE didn't

sell any Himself After he died....... A truly sad, and tragic basis for a

Musical, but from that framework they weave a fictional story filled with song

and brilliant set design and all the foofaw (what, Buckman?) that goes along

Here's where you come in, Buckwheat, IF you're still reading......

There are probably two, maybe three times, during musical passages, that I am so

overcome with emotion, that, to look at me you would think that my Beloved New

York Football Giants had just lost a playoff game, (which by the time you read

this, they may well have....) I mean, tears just running down my Santa-looking

cheeks and into my gray-beard and on down into the Mighty Hudson River and out

to sea..... I DO NOT control this Municipal Waterworks; and that's what bothers

and at the same time intrigues me..... I'm not one to cry at the end of "Ol'

Yeller," or to grab a Hanky when Shane won't come back or Lassie won't come

home..... Yet, when there is music, and/or singing involved along with that

tragic situation...... OHBOYO, let the water-sports begin.......

SO, for this ONE-TIME only, there will be a homework assignment with

this column...... Does this happen to you? Talk amongst yourselves.....

Explain...... Just like those essays you had to do in college..... Oh, that's

right this is a TEXAS Magazine..... OK, Elementary School..... HEY, BACK UP,

PLEEZE....... Just one request, OK? Don't hit me in the face....... C'mon,

what's a little joke among, um, Internet-acquaintances....... But, I am serious

about knowing if this happens to you, too...... So, write me...... WRITE ME, not

the magazine..... Lord knows Marq has enough to do just editing my grammar and

Sin-tax..... Write to me at beukema@optonline.net and let me know that you are a

Wilting-Violet, too...... Thanks, Campers...... Hopefully I will see you further

Occasionally, I'll look out of my window at the Mighty Hudson River

and see a Polar Bear floating by on a large piece of ice.... It's always the

same one; the Polar Bear, not the ice, and I've come to know him quite well

(It is a "he", and a Little TOO friendly for a "he"; he winks at me...)

Sometimes I'll ask him where he's been since the last time I saw him, and

sometimes he'll ask me how my BJ is, and if I've heard any good music

lately.... Well, if you know me AT ALL, Campers, then you'll know that I

have Always heard some good music lately, and am always willing to bore

anybody within earshot to tears talking about it.... So, after a couple of

times asking that question, he's wised up and just asks about my Honey, and

leaves it at that.... Sometimes he just floats on by, and I look down at him

and he looks up at me, and neither of us say a word (of course, he winks),

and that's okay, because that's just the kind of relationship we have

developed; one of relaxed friendship; I know he's there, and he knows I'm

here, and nothing really needs to be said; we're comfortable in our

friendship and secure enough as beings that a little quiet now and then can

I haven't really tracked it, but I think it's usually a Friday when he

floats by, and it seems like it is almost every week, and my theory is that

he works all week up North somewhere, and then heads back to The City for

the weekend with The Family or whatever he's got that gets him through the

night.... That's funny (strange, not haha), though, because it is usually

the other way around, at least for humans; they work all week in The City,

and then on Friday, They head North to be with The Family..... I hate to

pry, and upset what we have; I figure that if he wants me to know, he'll

just have to tell me some day, because I don't really want to ask him....

What's also funny (strange, still), is that he's towards the middle of

the river, and the river, at Nyack, is about three miles across, so he's

probably a good mile and a half away; and add to that the eight floors up

that I am and you have a good piece of change sitting between us, all blue

and sunshiny and cold..... And yet we never seem to have a problem

communicating...... I don't see all that well, in fact even with my glasses

I'm blind as a bat, and he has complained for as long as I've known him that

he doesn't hear well.... So, I'm mystified how we do it, but we do.... My

theory is that since most times when he comes by, it is very early in the

morning, and there is no one else around, that the lines of communication

tend to be a little clearer than at other times of the day when there is so

much hustle and bustle going on.... And also, since he is only a figment of

my fertile imagination, that the only communicating that has to really go on

Now, you might think that this would mean that Mister Polar Bear is

then not real; but, oh no, that is certainly NOT the case, as he is as real

to me as you are, and YOU certainly know that YOU are real, aren't you?

Well? Aren't you? Okay, so I don't want to hear another word from you about

him being real or not.... If you're good and just leave it alone, I'll say

hi to him for you next time he comes by..... Okay? Would you like that?

Good, I thought that you looked like the kind of person that would enjoy

knowing a nice Polar Bear, even if it is through somebody else's

friendship.... Okay, it's settled then; I'll say hi for you if you say hello

to your sheep for me.... Thanks, that is very kind of you..... See ya later,

Wrecks [Rex] Bell has that thing that David Bromberg and Mose

Allison always had...I call it "cool" but you may call it something else... It

doesn't really matter what You call it; he's still got it and you and I probably

never will...It's the kind of thing that if you try to look directly at

it,or try to hold on to it, it slips away, gone down the highway with that

last girlfriend and all your money...And don't get me wrong here; it's not a

"detached" kind of cool; no no Nanette, he's not detached at all, he's hot

and cold and emotional as all hell....You just get the idea as you listen to

him, that he knows something that the rest of us are only getting a glimpse

On a wonderful Townes Van Zandt [if you don't know, Rex's dear friend,

bandmate and running buddy] song, "Be Here To Love Me", that old, elusive

prize of singers,phrasing, is too light a word for what Rex does here...He

sings it,yeah, and with a warm, wonderfully melodic voice, but you'd swear

by the end of the song that he had just had a conversation with you...In

other words, he makes it sound easy, not easy like Sunday Morning

[man,whoever wrote that Never had a hangover from Saturday night,did they?],

but easy like that crossword puzzle in the back of the TV Guide...and there

is a terrific Blood on the Tracks-like rhythm guitar goin on back there

somewhere, besides the tasty little solo in the middle...On "Somebody To

Impress", there's a bouncy,little sashay goin on that made me want to run

around the house with just a shirt and socks on doin Kareoke right along

"Sinkin" leads us into serious territory, for awhile, as

we sit in on a gambler's chat with himself...He's looking in the mirror and

we're sittin right there on his shoulder....Musically,this is a wonderful

duet between Rex's mello-cello voice and a lovely violin that is right on

the edge of bein a fiddle....When Rex says,I been looosin,with a little "who

goosed me" voice, I dare you not to smile and get a little chill...."Tower

of Song" by that wonderful court-jester- of - the - apocalypse, Leonard

Cohen, gives us a chance to hear Rex deal with the subtle nuances of his

voice [can you believe I said something like that in a Rex Bell article?; I

bet Rex can't either.] On "Dog's Life", Rex plays with words like Tiger

Woods plays with that little ball....Outstanding slide guitar goin on

"Rex's Blues", with the squeezebox and violin interplay, is even

better than you already know it's gonna be...I mean, can you imagine being

the guy that these words were written and sung for originally? "Ride the

Blue wind high and free...." "There ain't no dark till somethin shines..." I

know people that have these words on their walls, for God's sake...people

that have tattoos of this song on their chest [over top of the classic

crossed - out- exes names] Folks, sometimes there is just nothing left to

say,but that you gotta get it, cause if you don't get it, you're missing out

on one of the musical treats of this or any other year.... "Dollar Blues" is

clever,witty,funny and pithy [you look it up,I'm not gonna tell you]... A

real taste of what Rex must be like live...A full adult dose,I am

"One Lousy Song" opens with a terrific life- is- a- carnival sound,

that accordion and violin combo again, and goes on to become a wonderful

Bandlike delicacy, that I find myself going back to often...Blaze Foley's

"Oval Room" is flat out terrific; a dramatic background by-play goin

down,circling round, taking off, finally like something from Townes's Rear

View Mirror album [a moment of silence and a bowed head for That album]..."I

Hate Love" is a love song to hate...Hey,YOU figure it out,I can only try and

tell you what's here, I can't hold your hand the whole time,though....I know

I've gone on a little long here, it must be my preachers training coming

back,but, HEY,if you're still with me,campers, wake up for this one...Rex

wraps up the show with the wonderful Diane Craig singing her song, "The

Ghost of Townes Van Zandt"....I'll just say this; it's every thing you would

school tomorrow that you learned a little bit tonight....you learned about

pithy, and subtle nuance, and the court-jester-of-the-apocalypse [I don't

know what's wrong with me,really,I've tried to see a doctor,but.....], but

the one thing I want you to walk away from your Cheerios remembering is that

Rex Bell is a giant....a cool giant, but a giant nonetheless....and that due

to the state of American radio in the year 2000, giants aren't exactly what

they're playing.... and That's a shame,cause they might just be missing out

on one of the best kept secrets in the great state of Texas....Rex Bell's

Dog's Life....It is a piece of work that would make any man proud....It is a

statement of blazing artistry and chilling vitality....Rex Bell, cool as he

is, has taken a lifetime of experience and put it out there for the world to

hear.....As a good friend of mine often says, Don't let the Rapture Pass you

For those of you that are regular readers of this column, you know that

when I review something it is Always because it is something I like, or

love, and because of that feeling, want to pass that emotion on to others so

that they can experience the same pleasure I have had... When I told you

about Mickey Newbury's latest CD, "Stories From the Silver Moon Cafe," I

couldn't have been more glowing in my praise, because That is what the Man

and the Music deserved..... With Wrecks Bell's, "Dog's Life," it was a case

of the same thing; just magnificent music, lyrics and performance that Drove

me to tell you, my friends and neighbors, how great it was.... I have Always

felt that a critic or a reviewer should only review works that he or she

truly liked and I Always felt that those that had negative things to say

about a piece of music, a movie, or a book, were spiteful for some reason,

or because They didn't have the talent to produce the work themselves....

Well, I stand before you today to say that I was wrong; OH, how I was

wrong, and I sincerely apologize for the errors of my past thinking.....

Here's the Deal: What has driven me to this point of life-changing,

light-bulb flashing, dawn-breaking revelation is "Boone's Lick" the newest

book by Texas's own Larry McMurtry..... Now, folks, I love Mr. McMurtry as

much as one man can love another without singing Showtunes.... I love him

like he was kinfolk, like we have known each other from the "old

neighborhood," and played stickball when we were kids.... He created two of

the greatest characters in literature, Augustus McRae and Woodrow F. Call,

of the tremendous "Lonesome Dove" series of books.... The four being:

"Lonesome Dove," "Streets of Laredo," "Deadman's Walk," and "Comanche Moon."

In my opinion, four of the finest books and characters Ever written into the

I have said all that I have said so far so that you will know that I

come to the table today with a heavy heart.... A heart as Heavy as Lyndon

Baines Johnson's heart when he told us that he would not seek another term

as our President..... A heart as Heavy as Bill Clinton's when he had to Face

the Music and tell the truth that he lied..... A heart as Heavy as Tony

Orlando's when he told Dawn he was breaking up the act.....(Okay, Not THAT

"Boone's Lick" is a Major Disappointment; not only for someone that was

looking forward to another masterpiece, but even for someone that only

wanted a "good" read, with "good" characters and a "good" story.... I admit

that when I saw that the book was only 287 pages, hardcover, that I was

already wondering how Mr. McMurtry was going to tell a tale in his normal

"Michener-Like" style of telling so much background on each character that

you end up knowing what their Granddaddy liked for breakfast.... Well, I

The Last thing I am, after all the things that I am Not, is a Book

Reviewer..... I am Not much of a Preacher; I am Not much of a Musician, and

I am Not a Book Critic or Reviewer.... But, I feel CALLED to tell My

Campers, My friends and neighbors, and anybody on a streetcorner that will

listen..... NOT to spend your hard-earned money on "Boone's Lick." The story

is barely believable, the characters are not even fairly likeable, and, what

is most amazing, he tries to wrap up the whole plot, that has been pretty

much growing mildew for 266 pages, in the last 21 pages.... In the book's

final short chapter, we see fortunes gained and lost; careers built and

ended, and half a dozen children born and raised, sometimes in a single

paragraph.... It is almost like a bell went off somewhere and Larry said,

"Well, I've been writing this long enough, now, I'd better wrap it up." And

so he did, with little thought or care for the characters or the poor

readers who by this time were trying SO hard to care a little bit about the

Cecil Family and what happened to them.... I almost got the idea that Even

Larry, liked his Own characters so little, that they didn't deserve enough

of his time to respectfully and coherently wrap up their lives.....

As I have said before, the last thing I want to do is waste my time or

yours, dear reader, with even One minute of negativity when there are SO

many great pieces of music and great books out there for us all to read, to

listen to, and to enjoy.... BUT, when there are going to be SO many fans of

Larry McMurtry picking up this book, taking that "NewBook" experience of

looking at the book without the jacket on, of smelling the woodpulp, of

feeling the pleasure of holding this brand-new creation in your hands like

it's a bouncing baby full of life and hopes and dreams; I CANNOT in good

conscience let that happen without you at least being warned..... OK? Now, I

don't take myself too seriously, and neither should you.... If I were you,

I'd probably go ahead and buy the book anyway, and to tell you the truth, I

almost hope that you do..... Because then, about 287 pages from now, you'll

close the damn thing, sit back and yell to the mate....." You know, Hon,

that Rev Buckman is nuttier than a fruitcake, but he sure knows what he's

talking about....." You will, I know you will, and when you do, I want you

to write me, so my heart won't be SO heavy..... As always, Campers, thanks

for stoppin' by, and I'm hopin' to see you further on down the trail......