<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17707324</id><updated>2011-06-07T23:37:41.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ron Canyon</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://roncanyon.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17707324/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roncanyon.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ron Canyon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14025024494145799455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17707324.post-113175431757186908</id><published>2005-11-11T16:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T16:11:57.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We &amp; Dog</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We are alone, absolutely alone on this chance planet: and, amid all the forms of life that surround us, not one, excepting the dog, has made an alliance with us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Maurice Maeterlinck&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17707324-113175431757186908?l=roncanyon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17707324/posts/default/113175431757186908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17707324/posts/default/113175431757186908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roncanyon.blogspot.com/2005/11/we-dog.html' title='We &amp; Dog'/><author><name>Sahalie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15372023155360397644</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17707324.post-113175413788862852</id><published>2005-11-11T16:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T16:08:57.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Born in the USA</title><content type='html'>The last few nights I have been buried in music writer Jimmy Guterman's "Runaway American Dream." His goal it seems was to write a book that focuses on the songs, the power of the arrangements and the magic of the words. He seems to shy away from the gossip stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I bring it up is that I recall that we both savored "Born in the USA" while we were in Japan. Ironically, hearing those songs reminds me more of Japan than anything else. More importantly, as Guterman breaks down songs and lyrics I am brought back in a dramatic way to what a powerful force music is in bringing you back to the places you have been. At so many parties so many different times in college we (my college friends) shouted out the songs of the early albums as if we owned them, wrote them ourselves or they had been written for us. The songs and all the good times we had with those songs have been pouring back to me in a powerful way as I have been reading the book. I am struck by the fact that it has all come back to me ...all these tunes and memories without playing one note of them....but all thru the written word describing them (and you know a thing or two about the power of the written word). I have had this non stop soundtrack going thru my head the last few days. many times during the day I will tell myself I need to dig up a tape or two (or the one or two that I might have on CD) but for some reason I don’t take the time to do it. A part of me seems to be enjoying the fact that the songs are playing loud and clear right now without the music being played. And often I am disappointed of late that the music when I do hear it, is only a reminder of something powerful but lacks the power it once had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the book is fun. The guy is definitely a big fan, but quite capable of throwing some criticism here and there. But for the most part he does a good job of laying out factors that fueled so much extra power and drive in to so many songs. The intricacies about the arrangements, the build up of certain songs and the incredible work of various e-street members on certain segments of certain songs (he makes a case for the e-street band being the best American rock band of all time). Most of all I have loved how he has isolated certain lines from songs and remarked things like: &lt;em&gt;Now who in the hell in the history of humankind has ever stated this line.&lt;/em&gt; At first it seems like a cut to Springsteen, but then he will say something like: But it works, it sounds natural even though people don’t talk like that....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been fun to read as it has brought me back to a very fun time in my life where Springsteen’s lyrics were the soundtrack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17707324-113175413788862852?l=roncanyon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17707324/posts/default/113175413788862852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17707324/posts/default/113175413788862852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roncanyon.blogspot.com/2005/11/born-in-usa.html' title='Born in the USA'/><author><name>Ronsan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15378038884622497692</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17707324.post-112914521852173998</id><published>2005-10-12T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T12:33:47.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The American Dream</title><content type='html'>For me, the question that is most current on my mind is, &lt;em&gt;What happened to the American Dream?&lt;/em&gt; You know, through hard work, courage and determination, despite rain and sleet and snow and dark of night, one can achieve success and prosperity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything you mention in your opening comments speaks to &lt;em&gt;how life is supposed to be when we hit 50&lt;/em&gt;. If not a nice, pampered existence, a least some comfort in the experience that we have attained some of the things we had imagined in our youth. But more than this, what I got is this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Either I eat the bear, or the bear eats me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife and I were out walking one evening during our recent vacation in Sandpoint, ID and the conversation drifted to this topic of the American Dream. That came on the heels of discussing quality of life in a big city (not that our small suburb qualifies!). Perhaps it all started as we discussed our new neighbor to the East and all that he is doing with his land and the impact it is having on our once peaceful backyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, we wondered about people who have chosen to move to small towns for a different life. And if these people, having moved to small towns, are happier or not. Is life less hectic as we would have ourselves believe? Is life more rewarding? Is the community in these small towns tighter, more focused and more extending? Or is the life of Atticus Finch or Andy Griffith's Mayberry no longer in existence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the American Dream is less of an economic goal than it once was or it was simply a time in America's early history when there was so much possibility, so much reward for the risk-takers. Perhaps it has now morphed into something that's a little harder to define or understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17707324-112914521852173998?l=roncanyon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17707324/posts/default/112914521852173998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17707324/posts/default/112914521852173998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roncanyon.blogspot.com/2005/10/american-dream.html' title='The American Dream'/><author><name>Sahalie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15372023155360397644</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17707324.post-112900247915437663</id><published>2005-10-10T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T11:28:47.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Figuring It Out At Fifty</title><content type='html'>Was a time when being fifty, or nearly fifty (can't give that much info away), meant something. Maybe it meant a nice salary with good benefits and a pension. Maybe it meant grown kids, a few grandkids and regular rounds of golf. Maybe it meant Tuesday night at the Rotary Club and a pew right near the altar. Maybe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what half a hundred means to you, but it shouldn't mean there's no pie left on the plate. I'm not complaining. Ron Canyon doesn't complain. I've been around the world. I know I've got it better than 90% of the poor souls on Terra, but I think there's more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it begins...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17707324-112900247915437663?l=roncanyon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17707324/posts/default/112900247915437663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17707324/posts/default/112900247915437663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://roncanyon.blogspot.com/2005/10/still-figuring-it-out-at-fifty.html' title='Still Figuring It Out At Fifty'/><author><name>Ron Canyon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14025024494145799455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
