Apples, for Milton

Rodney - Apples

APPLES (for Milton M.)

It was snowing in Vancouver the day you died. I was repainting my apartment, covering Mediterranean blue walls with layers of eggshell white paint. I was determined to work through the day and into the night until the job was done. I’d stopped to make lunch when the phone rang. It was Earl.

You need to go see Milton, Rodney. Ruby says he’s only got another day. Maybe two.

I thanked him and ended the call. I hurriedly showered scrubbing paint from my skin and hair. I ironed my clothes and quickly dressed. At the door I looked back into the apartment. The furniture and carpet were covered by white sheets, as if the falling snow had fallen inside the walls as well. The blue paint dark beneath the first coat of white was flowing water under ice too thin to walk on. I took the residential streets to the hospital. The black branches of the giant, leafless oaks arched above me like the charred roof of a burnout cathedral. I listened to the silence of the snowed-in streets as I walked to find some calm. The hallway to your room was wide, the bleached white floor shined like the full moon’s gaunt face on a winter’s night. The smell of human waste rose from canvas hampers filled with soiled bedding and gowns. Empty wheelchairs sagged askew by walls. I passed quiet rooms, the patients hidden in their beds behind beige curtains. I entered your room and sat by your bed to watch you sleep. It was as if someone had left a shrunken mask of the face I knew lying on the pillow. I held your hand. It was cold as the snow falling on the city. A nurse came into the room pushing a cart. She pulled a narrow table across your bed where she placed a tray and cutlery.

Rodney I held your hand

Would you like to feed him?

Sure. I replied

Milton! said the nurse loudly. Wake up. It’s time for lunch.

You stared at the nurse. Ruby? you asked.

She’s coming later Milton. You have a visitor. The nurse pointed to me.

Where’s Ruby? you asked me.

She’s coming later Milton.

Who are you?

I’m Rodney.

Rodney’s going to help you eat your lunch.

He likes the applesauce. said the nurse as she took the cart and pushed it from the room.

You tried to lift your head from the bed, but fell back on the pillow. Your hands grasped the railings, but still you were too weak to lift yourself. You kept saying

No, I won’t! No, no, I won’t!

I leaned my face in front of yours. Milton! Hi!
Your eyes found me and you grinned. Milt, It’s Rodney.

Hey Rod.
Are you hungry? Can I give you some food?
Okay. you replied watching me.

I picked up a spoon and dipped it in the applesauce and moved it to your mouth. You closed your dry lips around it and swallowed. Those apples are good! Your eyes shined like polished fruit as the boy took your voice.

Rodney Apples

I fed you several times and after each you asked for more until you shut your eyes. I stayed another hour, holding your hand as you slept. When I first got sober you’d drop me off at the small room I called home, saying before I left your car

You’re alright babe. You just don’t know it yet.


 

Rodney Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town

Rodney DeCroo is a songwriter, poet and playwright. He has released 6 full-length albums, an album of poetry set to music (Allegheny), a book of poetry (Allegheny, BC) and a theatre production (Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town) that received critical acclaim at several Canadian fringe and writers festivals. DeCroo wrestles with regret, loss, aging, love, memory, death, art—always with his own ongoing recovery embedded in the background. DeCroo’s album and performances draw upon his greatest natural resource—his poetry.

Want to buy his music?  Find him here on itunes.  Want to catch him in concert? Check out his calendar here.

The Radiator

Rodney The Radiator

The Radiator

The cat mewls loudly,

curled up in the corner

by the purple radiator.

 

You know, that’s a damn ugly color

to paint a radiator.

I’ve lived in this apartment nine years,

a long time to live with an eyesore.

How many thousands of times

have I glanced at it,

and failed to notice

that it resembles a giant accordion

repeatedly vomited on by a wino?

Rodney And the Head

A wino, who by an involuntary disposition,

or by a conscious act of will,

took to not noticing things

until the things were taken away or lost,

except the wine bottle and the sickness

in the morning and the head

that has lost even the words

that float in pieces in a fog where they

can’t be held down and made to say

more than “I’m sorry.” or “Please.

or sometimes a name that seems

to have something to do with him.

 

I might be more like this man

than I’d like to admit.

My remaining family members

numbering three and we don’t speak

across the thousands of literal miles.

My youthful ideals as valuable as play money

in the world’s marketplace,

purchasing only chuckles or blatant scorn.

My idiotic proclamations of genius

as idiotic as they sound.

Rodney I Seem to be Disappearing

 

I seem to be disappearing

over these many years,

but only now noticing it,

but the wino is only a scarecrow

something I’ve made up right?

 

I notice the radiator resembles

the bunched brow of a malicious entity,

some steel radiator god

that glowers behind what we fail to see,

and despises men such as myself


Rodney Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town

Rodney DeCroo is a songwriter, poet and playwright. He has released 6 full-length albums, an album of poetry set to music (Allegheny), a book of poetry (Allegheny, BC) and a theatre production (Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town) that received critical acclaim at several Canadian fringe and writers festivals. DeCroo wrestles with regret, loss, aging, love, memory, death, art—always with his own ongoing recovery embedded in the background. DeCroo’s album and performances draw upon his greatest natural resource—his poetry.

Want to buy his music?  Find him here on itunes.  Want to catch him in concert? Check out his calendar here.

 

Young With You

 Rodney Stupid Boy YOung
I would intro this piece by Rodney DeCroo… but why?  Read.  Feel.  Listen.  Fall in.
Yes, there’s a link to the recording below.  Just buy itbut enjoy the lyrics first. 
Rodney DecrooRebecca Blissett Photo
Rodney DecrooRebecca Blissett Photo
Young With You
We could talk about the old times,
We could dig up all those graves,
We could set the dead to talking,
But we don’t know what they might say.

So please don’t say you’re sorry,
I don’t need that from you,
To be young is to be reckless,
I’m glad I was young with you.

We could walk along the seashore,
We could stare out at the waves,
We could pretend we live forever,
But we don’t think that way.

So please don’t say you’re sorry,
I don’t need that from you,
To be young is to be reckless,
I’m glad I was young with you.

Some poets have said,
All our loves we will destroy,
Some poets have said,
In our sorrow lies our joy,

But I don’t feel any wiser,
Than I ever felt before,
And I still have no idea,
What we’re here for.

So please don’t say you’re sorry,
I don’t need that from you,
To be young is to be reckless,
I’m glad I was young with you.

Rodney Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town

 

Hey… Rodney has a gig on March 26th.

Check it out below.


 

MARCH 26 / Showcase @ Backspace 

Date:       Saturday, March 26th
Time:      Doors 7pm / Show 8pm
Where:    Backspace (1318 Grant Street Vancouver / Lane Entrance)
Cost:       $15 advance / $20 door
Tickets:   Online via eventbrite, by phone 604-831-6263,
Highlife Records, Red Cat Records, Zulu Records
Drink:      Cash Bar
About: Don’t miss this show show between country-noir / folk-country artists and old friends Rodney DeCroo + The Wise Blood and Carolyn Mark!

Rodney DeCroo is a songwriter, poet and playwright. He has released 6 full-length albums, an album of poetry set to music (Allegheny), a book of poetry (Allegheny, BC) and a theatre production (Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town) that received critical acclaim at several Canadian fringe and writers festivals. DeCroo wrestles with regret, loss, aging, love, memory, death, art—always with his own ongoing recovery embedded in the background. DeCroo’s album and performances draw upon his greatest natural resource—his poetry.

Want to buy his music?  Find him here on itunes.  Want to catch him in concert? Check out his calendar here.

There’s a Crack in Everything

Stupid There's a Crack
A lot of my work- and the work of music writers/ journalists / bloggers who’ve been kind enough to write about it- focuses on the hardships I faced as a child, teen and early adult. Why that is isn’t a mystery. Intense situations and struggles are the stuff of drama. They push us past normal and safe where we feel in control into the painful and chaotic realm of trauma, but that’s also where beauty, transformation, love, mystery, compassion and profound connections can swoop in to reveal who we really are and what we’re really capable of. As Leonard Cohen sings:
“There is a crack, a crack in everything 
That’s how the light gets in.”
A mentor of mine who passed away ago a few years ago used to say to me “When I need to touch God Rodney I touch you.” He wasn’t referring to me specifically, he meant that reaching out to others, sometimes for help, sometimes to help was where he truly found himself over and over again.
While I had to deal with a lot of pain as a child and an adult, I’ve also been extremely fortunate. I’ve had many generous and gifted people come into my life to guide me. It’s crazy how lucky I’ve been. It’s like in Greek myths how the hero (or in my case the anti-hero) keeps getting helped by mysterious strangers (the gods in disguise) when he or she needs it most. A folksinger I know, Rick Keating, has a lyric in a song that says “I keep on getting saved.” Yep.
Rodney DecrooRebecca Blissett Photo
Rodney DecrooRebecca Blissett Photo

GONE
by Rodney DeCroo

My first apartment was a basement suite
near 41st and Oak. The owner Craig,
a drug dealer turned contractor
after a five year stint in Okalla,
rented cheaply to young men
in trouble. I found the place
through an ad on the wall
in the Social Assistance office.
The interview was in his kitchen.

“Come on!” he says “Have something to eat!”
when Diane asked if I was hungry.
I hadn’t eaten for two days
after spending my money getting drunk
at the Cobalt, but I told him
“No, I don’t want anything”.
“Listen,” he said “you’re not leaving this kitchen
until you’ve had one of Diane’s sandwiches.
So what’s it gonna be?”
“Okay, sure.”
“There you go! he shouted smacking the table.
“Are you looking for work?”
“Yes”.
I’m looking for laborers. You want to work for me?”
“Okay.”

As I ate the thick bread and rich meat
and drank the dark coffee offered to me,
I felt the hunger in my stomach,
my unwashed clothes and my shaking hands
as if for the first time. After he left me
in the furnished suite, I stood with my back
against the door looking at the room.
I wondered who’d been here before me
and why they were gone.

Rodney Stupid Boy

 

FYI… Rodney has two gigs coming up in Vancouver.  

Check it out below.


MARCH 6 / House Concert @ Cliff’s House

Catch this intimate solo set from Rodney DeCroo, with support from The Minimalist Jug Band.

Time:     Doors 1pm / Show 2-4pm
Where:  # 2-868 Cassiar Street East Van ( near PNE )
Cost:     Suggested donation of $15.  Ticket reservations are recommended by the host as seating is limited.
Contact: kali@tonicrecords.com for reservation details.
Drink:    BYOB ( please drink responsibly )
Food:   Tasty finger foods provided

MARCH 10 / “A Circle in the Fire” @ The Heatley
 
Rodney DeCroo will be hosting and performing in the first event of a new monthly series, “A Circle in the Fire”, a songwriters-in-the-round evening. This evening will  feature an eclectic mix of local folk songwriters + performers: Doug Andrews, Elise Hall-Meyer, and Caroline Allatt.
Date:     Thursday, March 10th
Time:     8:00pm
Where:  696 E Hastings St.
Cost:     No cover!

 


 

Rodney DeCroo is a songwriter, poet and playwright. He has released 6 full-length albums, an album of poetry set to music (Allegheny), a book of poetry (Allegheny, BC) and a theatre production (Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town) that received critical acclaim at several Canadian fringe and writers festivals. DeCroo wrestles with regret, loss, aging, love, memory, death, art—always with his own ongoing recovery embedded in the background. DeCroo’s album and performances draw upon his greatest natural resource—his poetry.

Want to buy his music?  Find him here on itunes.  Want to catch him in concert?  Check out his calendar here.

Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town

Stupid Boy

Yesterday I introduced you to Rodney DeCroo and what he’s bringing to TinaOLife.

Today, you experience him.

He’s been working a tag line that seems to follow him:  Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town. We all have a story and part of Rodney’s is where he comes from.

Here are his lyrics and his song: Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town

She was someone I only dreamed of,
I was too scared to make a stand,
She was all my light,
Yes, she shined so bright,
For a stupid boy in an ugly town.

I’d go stand by the river,
I ‘d watch the barges floating past,
With their coal so black,
The color of all my lack,
I was a stupid boy in an ugly town.

She said Oh did I know you then?
She said Were we ever friends?
I said No, I just hung around,
I was a stupid boy in an ugly town.

I’d get drunk almost every weekend,
Behind the factory with my friends,
Then we’d get in fights,
Just another boring night,
For a stupid boy in an ugly town

Stupid_Boy_in_an_Ugly_Town_ title
watch the music video here.

I’d hear songs on the radio,
With their airbrushed harmonies,
They didn’t sound like me,
They said I’d always be,
A stupid boy in an ugly town.

She said Oh did I know you then?
She said Were we ever friends?
I said No, I just hung around,
I was a stupid boy in an ugly town.

Memories are stories,
They change as they are told,
But a part of me,
Will always be,
A stupid boy in an ugly town.

 

There’s something hauntingly intimate about embodying our roots, especially when we come from stupid and ugly.  We’re all stupid and ugly.  We’re all arrestingly, stupid and ugly.

And I’m gonna say it – that’s where stupid and ugly intersects with beautiful.  It’s in all of us.

xxT

Rodney Stupid Boy

 

Rodney.

 

 


Rodney DeCroo is a songwriter, poet and playwright. He has released 6 full-length albums, an album of poetry set to music (Allegheny), a book of poetry (Allegheny, BC) and a theatre production (Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town) that received critical acclaim at several Canadian fringe and writers festivals. DeCroo wrestles with regret, loss, aging, love, memory, death, art—always with his own ongoing recovery embedded in the background. DeCroo’s album and performances draw upon his greatest natural resource—his poetry.

Want to buy his music?  Find him here on itunes.  Want to catch him in concert?  Check out his calendar here.

Announcing Rodney DeCroo – Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town

Rodney Stupid Boy

TinaOLife is pleased to announce that Singer, Songwriter, Poet, Actor, Storyteller and Artist Rodney DeCroo will be bringing his passion for living to TinaOLife – and it ain’t what you’re expecting, well, that is at least if you don’t know him.

If you don’t know him – you’re thinking “awesome a life-affirming artist here to breathe sunshine, rainbows and possibility into my days!  I’m in!”

And if you do know him, then the truth is you don’t know what’s coming.

You’ll likely expect the grit, the underbelly, the fuck yous, the tenderness, the weeping wildness of his mind, the raw claws of his heartache, and the silliness of those smirking lips of his. You’ll expect his artistic genius. Okay, I’m bias (it’s true, I totally am.  The guy wrote poetry about me) – I dated him many moons ago when we were college activists (me by experiment, him on purpose) and I became enamored by his thread-bare army jacket, cowboy boots and his love for Jack Kerouac, Alan Ginsberg and Pablo Neruda. Somehow this kinda square gal hooked up with this firey student union leader and then camped out with him and forty or so others students on the floor of then Premier Mike Harcourt‘s local office for ten days to protest the cut in education funding and support the teacher’s strike.  Like I said, it was a special time.

Pablo Lost in the Forest

While romantic relationships can fizzle out, or in our story – blow up, what drew me to him in the first place almost 25 years ago (okay, besides his dashingly dark and mischievous good looks), was and is his sacred humanity.

Now what do I mean by that? Sacred humanity?

poets can see.

poets invite us to feel.

poets speak the language of art.

poets embody the spectrum of emotions through words, pauses, breath and in stillness.

Rodney touches all shades and that in itself celebrates life, as he gives words and expression to our sacred humanity.

Welcome Rodney.   Here’s his bio taken from his personal website rodneydecroo.com 

Rodney DecrooRebecca Blissett Photo
Rodney Decroo Rebecca Blissett Photo

 

BIO:

Burnt out by seven straight years of touring and recording five albums, Rodney DeCroo walked away from his band and his label after the release of 2010’s Queen Mary Trash. The double album he left behind—urgent, brash, ragged, full of spleen—now looks like a roadmap pointing to the emotional reckoning that lay ahead.

Five years later the contrast is staggering. For his return to the studio as a singer-songwriter, DeCroo has produced something as beautiful on the surface as a dusk-painted reflecting pool, as shadowy below as his own tumultuous psyche. The gap between his inner and outer life has always been slender, but Campfires on the Moon—his debut on new label Tonic Records—gives us DeCroo at his most intimate.

Between then and now, DeCroo devoted the years to therapy and healing as he stepped up a lifelong battle with PTSD. He also threw himself into a more immediately personal trinity of projects, yielding a spoken word album (Allegheny), book of poetry (Allegheny, BC), and a touring stage play (Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town) that expanded both his critical and popular appeal.

Suitably refreshed, DeCroo was ready to follow Queen Mary Trash. With former Convictions bandmate and stage collaborator Mark Haney on double bass, and long time friend Ida Nilsen contributing piano and vocals—DeCroo had been quietly amassing material with Nilsen in mind—DeCroo returned to Brian Barr’s Vancouver studio and produced a record that outstrips even 2008’s Mockingbird Bible for its ferocious vulnerability.

Gradually the album takes on an emotional force all its own, through its combination of quivering intimacy and DeCroo’s greatest natural resource—his poetry. As its 10 songs draw to a close, Haney throws a little discordant shade into “Ashes after Fire”, foreshadowing the envy that grips DeCroo as he visits some old friends at the Railway Club.

“They’re doing well,” he sighs, “their wellness never ends.” But there’s a deep irony at work. Breaking from a past in disarray, Campfires on the Moon strongly suggests that its author’s own wellness has well and truly begun.

Rodney’s pieces (in whatever form they show up) will be shared on Thursdays – the punctuation of the almost weekend.  It’s the day past the madness of the middle but not yet into the surrender of a Friday night.

Thursday it is – that day of the week where endings are still beginning.  His Thursday posts will fall under his heading of Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town, because underneath it all, in the lonely corners of our day we can all feel a little displaced you know?  Yet here we are.

Want to know more about Rodney?  Want to find out where he’s playing next?  Want to pick up his album? Visit his site here.  

TinaO Your Living Story

Til Thursday…

xxT


TinaO is a writer, speaker and the founder of TinaOLife – a hub for all things worth living for, the workshop Live Your Best Story, and her coaching practice:  Tall Poppy Living. She’s also a professional network marketer with a decade in the industry.  She teaches: selling isn’t slimey and marketing isn’t make-believe.  You can be yourself and be successful in Direct Sales.