But really, I try to sing my songs and play my instruments so that my viewers find their spirits lifted by the music.
I came to the US in the early 1960s and found a new musical home in the folk revival of the time. I love to sing songs that were popular at that time as well as ones that came a little later, many of those on the country side of the radio. There is a lot of joy in gospel music, and I try to share it whenever I can. This eclectic style of folk/country/gospel describes my original songs as well.
I'm a retired philosophy professor; I cherish creativity, and I'm always happy to find new outlets for it. My name is Win Corduan, and you can see and hear me on most Thursday nights at 9 pm Eastern on StreetJelly.
I may be giving away my age, but during the summer of 1967 I found myself in Greenwich Village in New York, playing music with some early "hippies" in Washington Square.. We kept it up late into the night until the local police sent us packing.
Recently, at a former colleague's retirement dinner, I endeavored a musical tribute. As I made some introductory comments, my mouth started to go dry, a frequent affliction nowadays.
So, I launched into the song with my mouth feeling like a drought in the Texas panhandle. By the 1st chorus, it was the Gobi desert, and the Sahara by the 2nd.
Desperately I moved my tongue around my mouth between lines. I tried to find an oasis, but I didn't even get a mirage.
About to start the third verse, I suddenly sensed some solid objects rattling around in my mouth. I inserted a lengthy silent fermata into the song in order to check out discretely what was going on. Carefully dropping the things into one hand, I saw two crowns that my dry and sticky tongue must have separated from their posts. I quickly pocketed them and resumed my number, trying not to show the big gap in my teeth.
When I returned to my seat, I kept my mouth covered. And I realized that I had a new item for this page.
At age 14, I spent 5 dollars on a broken lute that I used as a guitar. It had its ornamentation knocked off, and some household wire performed the duty of the B string. At that, it sounded okay to me. A while later, on a family trip to Mexico, I picked up a guitar which was great if you ignored its warped neck. Eventually it gave way to a "Harmony" store brand, which I played for several years. By that time, I was married, and my wife referred to the guitar as my "Gertrude," the subtext being that I spent too much time with this rival for her attention. Eventually in the early eighties someone gave me a Yamaha G-235, already dubbed Sarah. She has been joined by Fred (a Yamaha FG 260 12-string guitar), Joe (my banjo), and George (my accoustic/electric base). I also play a dulcimer, an auto harp, and a three-string cigar box guitar, none of which have ever been christened. I should not forget about my collection of harmonicas, but is it going too far if I mention my kazoo here?
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- “From the Road“
“You made my heart sing.”
“Thanks for playing my song.”
“I bow to your Godliness.”
“You made this party not suck.”
“I love and support your charity.”
“Here kid, buy yourself something.”
PEACE ☮ LOVE ♥ STREAMING
PEACE ☮ LOVE ♥ STREAMING