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Passing of a phenomenal drummer, a genius lyricist, and all-around thinker ... Rush's Neil Peart passed on earlier in the week after fighting brain cancer. As a young kid growing up in the 70s, I fell in love with his philosophical lyrics that proved that music could be both for the mind and the heart and the story-telling that became Rush's moniker. He was a technician and a magician ... a thinker and a creator ... a "philosopher and a plowman" ... "a blacksmith and an artist." It was only fitting that the very first song that I learned to play on the bass guitar was Temples of Syrinx from Rush's magnum opus, 2112. That song unlocked my interest in the bass and also in the study of lyrics ... and Rush, especially Peart, provided a rich feeding ground for how literature could move music. A lot of my bass repertoire contains Rush classics ... and so does my written library. Plenty of introspection this week with the realization that "we are only immortal for a limited time." RIP Professor. NPR article on remember Peart: https://www.npr.org/2020/01/11/795555335/remembering-neil-peart-a-monster-drummer-with-a-poets-heart Peart At Work in A Drum Solo In Frankfurt, Germany A chance to check out his melodic musings on La Villa Strangiato: Peart capping off Letterman's Drum Solo Week ... And, of course, a throwback post that looks at the musings of YYZ, inspired by the airport landing signal for Toronto's airport:

Kyle Adams of West Lafayette signed with James Madison

To each his own. Some like peace, some like blowing shit up.

I’ve been to France. They get all bent out of shape if we use the wrong dialect, etc. I calmly replied that if it weren’t for Papa Gipper and 100,000 of his buddies we’d all be speaking German...

........or 8:00. That was the starting time back in my day.

The beginning of the season is already too hot. Moving back further into summer makes it worse.

An offensive player is on the line of scrimmage when his foot or head penetrates the plane drawn through the waistline of the snapper. These players are not in “no man’s land.” They are on the line of scrimmage.