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A Thought for Today

Get some fun out of life today.


Dear Ken,

Thank God for music and poetry.

I was sitting in my car tonight, the rain coming down, and me singing along to the entire Mary Traver's "Morning Glory" album.

And what a wonderful concert it was. That's where I first heard "Children One And All". I really have nothing more to say. Read the lyrics, sing them to the music in your head.

God bless all the poets,

Bob White

Thanks for this contribution, Bob, though I have to admit to having a few tense moments as I tried to find a copy of Rod's version of the song. I finally tracked it down on the "Grand Tour" album.

Mary Travers - now there's a name that evokes some bitter sweet memories for me. Peter, Paul and Mary's version of the John Denver song "Leavin' On A Jet Plane" was a huge hit here in South Africa around the time I was doing my military service in the late sixties. For some reason I always associate this song with hitch-hiking back to camp on a Sunday afternoon following a weekend pass!

I haven't heard the "Morning Glory" album but will make a point of doing so now that you've drawn our attention to it.

As always, the address for stories about your favorite McKuen song or poem is and I look forward to hearing from you soon.

 - Ken, Johannesburg, October 3

Details of Rod's next appearance can be obtained by following the link below.

"Tap Your Troubles Away" - the music of Jerry Herman

notable birthdays Gertrude Berg o Erik Bruhn o Lindsay Buckingham o Neve Campbell o Chubby Checker o Eddie Cochran o Pamela Hensley o James Herriot o Tommy Lee o Warner Oland o Emily Post o Steve Reich o Madlyn Rhue o Kevin Richardson o Gwen Stefani o Stevie Ray Vaughn o Gore Vidal o Eric Von Detten o Jack Wagner o Dave Winfield o Thomas Wolf
Rod's random thoughts The runner who never stumbles enjoys the victory less.

A penny earned isn't worth a dime.

If your goals are a long way off, run - don't walk.


Some of us live in big white houses
some of us live in small
some of our names are written on blackboards
some are written on walls.

Some of our daddies work in factories
some of them stand in line
some of our daddies buy us marbles
some of them just buy wine.

But at night you canít tell Sunday suits
from tattered overalls
then weíre only children
children one and all.

Some of us take our lunch in boxes
some in paper sacks
some of us kids join in the laughter
some hear it at our backs.

Some of our mothers sew fine linen
some canít sew a stitch
some of our mothers dress up poorly
some of them dress up rich.

But at night you canít tell party dresses
from hand-me-downs too small
then weíre only children
children one and all.

Some of us learn our lessons poorly
some of us learn them well
some of us find an earthly heaven
some of us live in hell.

Some of us go right on a-preachiní
without making too much sense
some of us hide behind the wall
some behind a fence.

But at night you canít tell picket fences
from bricks that tower tall
then weíre only children
children one and all.

Some of us grow up tall and handsome
some of us grow up plain
some of us own the world in ransom
some of us just our name.

Some of our people die in misery
some of them die in peace
some of our people die for nothing
but dying doesnít cease.

And at night you canít tell fancy coffins
from boxes in the hall
then weíre only children
children one and all
children, children, children one and all...

                                - from the album "Grand Tour", 1971

© 1970, 1986, 2001 by Stanyan Music Group & Rod McKuen. All Rights Reserved
Birthday research by Wade Alexander o Poetry from the collection of Jay Hagan o Coordinated by Melinda Smith
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