Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the occasional Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Be sure to click the Soundcloud links below to hear the three songs that make “The Ways of the Whale — a Trilogy.” Thank you!

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The Ways of the Whale (A Trilogy)

In the early 2000’s, Mary Sheridan and Sue Reed approached my table at the annual Ohio Arts Council Arts-in-Education Fall conference and asked if I would come to Tussing Elementary School to help fulfill a vision. Ms. Sheridan was an educator on the cutting edge of arts integration who was teaching her students about the eco-system of their own neighborhood while connecting them with a sister school in Barrow, Alaska. I ended up spending many weeks at Tussing making music with the students and writing a trilogy of songs about a whale who travels all the way from Barrow, Alaska to Pickerington, Ohio

I’m sorry to say that Mary is no longer living, but I know that the whale’s tale lives on behind the school. I have rarely had the opportunity to present these songs as a trilogy, so I’m grateful to share them with you today. The three songs tell the whole story. I hope you enjoy.

“This is the story of a humpback whale that swims all the way from Barrow, Alaska to Pickerington, Ohio. The students at Tussing Elementary School invited all the animals to come live in the pond out behind their school. Who would’ve thought that a humpback whale would respond to the invitation. She’s still there today in the form of a 20 foot tail. She’s busy teaching anyone who will listen… the ways of the whale.”

Half Way from Pickerington

Half Way from Pickerington all the way to Reynoldsburg
There’s was a farm rollin’ acres of fields.
There was corn and wheat, a swamp and a stream
And it all made a home for the animals and trees.
And the whale swims free in the ocean.

Well I was a child on the earth just a few years ago.
Me and my family were moving to find us a home
In a town that was willing to grow.
Mom and Dad bought a house right up off Tussing Road
And the whale swims free in the ocean.

Well the stores and the houses grew up and the farm was torn down.
Big city lights came closer and closer.
The sound all around was the change of our town.
Then a new school was built on the old fertile ground.
And the whale swims free in the ocean.

My friends and I grew in our homes and in our Tussing School.
We became a family in the old fashioned way that we do
Me and you, livin’ good, right and true.
But we wondered where had all the birds gone and the other animals too.
And the whale swims free in the ocean.

So, we learned about the wildlife that left since the people moved in.
Made an invitation to come back and join us again.
Workin’ hands put some love in the land.
And we sang to the birds tell the world of our plan.
And the whale swims free in the ocean.

From a thousand miles away came the call of an old humpback whale
Comin’ to the end of a long life of swimming in style.
She would die in the form of a tail
And forever she would be a teacher of the ways of the whale.
So she started swimming home to Ohio.

Humpback in Ohio

My journey begins in the Arctic Ocean North of Barrow, Alaska.
I’ll swim through the Bering Straits into the Bering Sea.
From North to South, I’ll soar the waters of the Pacific Ocean
Through the Panama Canal into the Caribbean Sea.

And then North through the Yucatan Channel,
I’ll swim to the Gulf of Mexico.
I’ll race to the old Mississippi.
and then run to the Ohio.

Chorus
I’m a whale on a journey underneath the sun
And I’m swimming home to Pickerington.
A humpback in Ohio betcha never thought you’d see
But I’m on my way so be looking for me.

My journey continues as I move to the mouth of the Scioto River.
I swim upstream Big Walnut Creek, I’m almost home.
I turn to the east, Blacklick Creek, listen close for the gift I’m bringing.
As I leap through the brook of old Tussing Farm, you’ll hear my song.

So, People gather round with your children
and bring your grandparents, too.
You gotta carry me over this portage
To the pond of the Tussing School.

I’m a whale on a journey underneath the sun
And I’m swimming home to Pickerington
A humpback in Ohio betcha never thought you’d see
But I’m on my way so be looking for me.
I’ll see you in February.

Our Home is Your Home

The Whale has come. Her journey’s done.
Time to celebrate such a wonderful day.
’Cause we’ve been waiting’ such a long long time
For the day to come, for the whale to join the party.
Everybody shout! Let the word spread out!
What a welcome home. It’s been a long long road.
And now our home is your home today.
Our home is your whale — you humpback whale.

So, what are you whale a gonna teach us?
What is the road you’re gonna lead us on?
How is your beauty gonna reach us?
How are we ever gonna learn your song?
I wonder if the whale might change us.
I wonder if the journey goes on and on.
Maybe the whale’ll be famous.
Maybe the world is gonna sing her song.

Thanks so much for listening! Here’s some color for you on this Spring Day. If you look closely, you’ll see the whale’s tail. ❤️

Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the occasional Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Be sure to click the Soundcloud and Youtube links below to hear the song “Children, Go Where I Send Thee.” Enjoy. ❤️ Hal

This week, I learned to make a raffia bow. Who would have imagined how much joy making bows out of paper could bring one guy? It’s been fun. It seems strange that it took me 58 years on this Earth before learning this skill. Now that I know, I’m never going back. If ever you receive a gift from me in the future, I assure you… there will be a raffia bow on top.

Today, my gift for you is a song. It’s one of my favorites. It’s a traditional African-American carol that sings of the “Little bitty baby, wrapped in the hollow of a clawhorn, lying in a manger, born in Bethlehem.” Listen to a version by my younger, more energetic self on Soundcloud or a traditional rendition on YouTube that is sure to touch your soul no matter your faith.

I send you love on this cloudy Christmas Eve morning in Ohio . May your holidays be full of contentment, joy, hope and peace.

I’ll leave you with the words from one my dad’s legendary Christmas letters. This one is from the early 2000’s but is equally appropriate today.

Peace on Earth. Hal

Hi. Sorry for the double send! ☺️ Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the occasional Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Be sure to click the Soundcloud or YouTube links below to hear the song “My Name is Joe.” I hope you’ll enjoy and share this post with a friend. Thank you!

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It was the Spring of 2021 and I was basking in the excitement of my newfound glory on TikTok. Suddenly, the world was discovering my music. Thanks to the “for you” page, I was reaching audiences all around the world. My music career was transforming before my eyes.

When this invitation appeared in my Instagram inbox, I figured it was one of the benefits of being famous. I was honored that some random person had discovered my music and wanted me to write a song for his four year old son.

I’ve always been a little nervous to accept commissions. You never know what’s gonna happen with the creative process. It’s so mysterious and unreliable. But I’ve done some of my best work under the pressure of a deadline, so I decided to jump in and go for it.

I had just been playing around with a new chord progression that I loved. Having gotten tired of all my old standard progressions, this one arrived at a perfect time. I sat down at the piano and went right to work. The whole time I was writing the song I was picturing the love between the mom and the dad and their son. I was truly inspired.

I’ll never forget how satisfied I was when I came up with the chorus. I felt like it was one of the greatest choruses that I had ever written. “My mom and dad will love me forever. ‘Cause we’re family and we’re all in this together.” It was perfect.

I put together a beautiful little packet of files to send off to the dad. I couldn’t wait to hear how much they loved the song. I was really feeling connected to this family. With a glimmer in my eye, I sent the files off through WeTransfer.

This seemed strange. I couldn’t understand why there was an “account manager” getting involved in our little $300 transaction. And there was no mention of how great the song was!

I can’t remember exactly when I starting becoming suspicious but I think it was right before I asked for him to send a photo. My brain was so stuck on the story of the mom and the dad and little Joe that I wasn’t willing to accept that this was anything but real.

The dad sent me this picture.

And then the vision of the family started breaking down. I’d never heard of a scam like this and I couldn’t imagine that someone would go to such length. I think it was the following message made me realize that there was no mom, no dad and no Joe. My heart was broken.

Still hoping for one last possibility of it being real, I let him know that there was no hurry for the payment.

It was all a hoax. It was a scam. In the end, I got a beautiful song out of it. Someday, I’d love to find a four year old name Joe that could use this perfect little song, but until then, it’s all yours. Enjoy.

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My Name is Joe

My name is Joe. I’m turning four years old
My favorite color’s green and Flash is my hero
Soccer is my game. Luka Modric is my man,
He’s the “Real Madrid” of the world

My mom and dad will love me forever
’cause we’re family and we’re all in this together
The love inside this home is a treasure
And if you watch me then you’ll surely see me grow.
It’s my birthday and my name is Joe.
I’m turning four years old.

Me and my best friend Dexter are cuddlin’ with mom.
We’re her favorite little guys. We’re the glimmer in her eyes.
And my dad’s so proud of me the way I’m turning out.
He sees the tiger in my heart and my soul.

My mom and dad will love me forever
cause we’re family and we’re all in this together
The love inside this home is a treasure
And if you watch me then you’ll surely see me grow
It’s my birthday and my name is Joe.
I’m turning four years old.

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Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the occasional Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Be sure to click the Soundcloud or YouTube links below to hear the song “House of Memory and Hope.” I hope you’ll enjoy and share this post with a friend. Thank you!

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Rev. Steven Protzman arrived at the UU church of Kent in August of 2018. On that summer Tuesday, he and I had our first one-on-one meeting in his office to discuss the upcoming services. He asked if I had any good music ideas for the service commemorating 150 years since the church building was built. I didn’t have any good ideas. But with a mix of trepidation and trust, I took a deep breath and said, “I’ll write a song for it.”

That afternoon, I called my favorite songwriting partner and we got busy. We ended up writing a beautiful song called “House of Memory and Hope.” It’s full of simple statements of where we might find our home. We ask the question of the meaning of words like Love and Peace and God and Beauty. We sang of the importance of rest. My favorite line of the song sings, “We rest in the being… here.”

One line toward the end of the song repeats “Our home is the moment. We gather.” It occurs to me that the only time to make myself at home is this moment. The only place to find my home is in wherever I am. And the best time to gather is now. We gather with the people. We gather with the wildflowers. We gather with all the beings of the earth. In this moment, we gather to find love and beauty and peace and rest and home and God in this spinning, chaotic world.

I hope you’ll listen. Find links and the full lyrics below.

House of Memory and Hope

Our home is the Love that sustains us.
Do you know what I mean when I say Love? (2x)

Our home is the beauty between us.
Do you know what I mean when I say Beauty? (2x)

It’s our time of living here
in the house of memory and hope.
She’s seen us through the changes
in the timelessness of ages.

We rest in the living
We rest in the loving
We rest in the being
here

Our home is the Peace that defines us
Do you know what I mean when I say Peace? (2x)

Our home is the God that delights us
Do you know what I mean when I say God? (2x)

We rest in the living
We rest in the loving
We rest in the being
here.

Our Home is the moment
We gather, we gather
Our Home is the moment
We gather, we gather

Do you know what I mean when I say home?
Do you know what I mean when I say, come home?

Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the occasional Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Be sure to click the Soundcloud and YouTube links below to hear the song “Everywhere.” I hope you enjoy and please share this post with a friend. Thank you!

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Everywhere

Our assignment was to write a song about gratitude. There was an upcoming Sunday service on the topic and and I were in charge of coming up with the music. But I wasn’t feeling grateful. It was 2007, I was in a bad flair up of chronic illness and it was long before I had started any sort of daily gratitude practice. The more we tried to fake a song about being thankful, the more annoyed and uninterested I became.

We took a break from writing and I came back to the table with a thought. “I don’t wanna write a grateful song!” I said to Margot. “What if we’re honest. What if we just tell the truth about how resistant I am right now to this whole gratitude thing.” Within minutes, the lines started flowing and I sang the new found melody out loud with feeling, “I don’t wanna make a (gratitude) list and I don’t wanna read it over.”

With just two chords and within a couple hours, the song was done. To this day, I think it's one of the best songs I’ve ever written. I remember the joy and the power that I felt whenever I got to perform the beautiful melody of the chorus. The lyrics affirm the hope that a gratitude list might offer, but I remain unwilling:

At the time, Hallie was in her stop-action video phase. I’ve included her music video below. The audio that Hallie used was beautifully produced by my friend Tom Sailor who added harmonies and mandolin. The Soundcloud version is a solo performance with acoustic guitar.

Enjoy. Find the complete lyrics below.

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Everywhere

People always say
I admit that I never really tried it
Make a list of all the things you’re grateful for

People say make a list
Write it down and read it over
Let the words on the paper keep growin’ more and more.

But I don’t wanna make a list
And I don’t wanna read it over
I don’t wanna listen to the voice that’s knockin’ on my door

Saying with a clear mind and a courageous heart
I could have roses on my window
Within no time, I could have a brand new start
and I’d see those roses everywhere.
Everywhere I look.

People always say
Forget about your old complaining
Forget about thinkin’ there’s something missing here

People say give thanks
Put the pen on the lines of the paper
Let the words of the fountain flow like falling tears

But I don’t wanna change
I don’t wanna let go of my story
I don’t wanna lose this familiar fear, even though

with a clear mind and a courageous heart
I could have roses on my window
Within no time, I could have a brand new start
and I’d see those roses everywhere.
Everywhere I look.

People always say
I admit that I never really tried it
Make a list of all the things that  you’re thankful for

People say make a list
The beginning of a grateful story
It’s the opening act of loving more and more

But I don’t want to write it down
I don’t know if I’m really quite ready
What if I lose the who I am right now

I don’t wanna make a list
I don’t wanna just cause I don’t wanna make one
Even though the whole world is telling me how, saying

with a clear mind and a courageous heart
I could have roses on my window
Within no time, I could have a brand new start
and I’d see those roses everywhere.
Everywhere I look.

Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the occasional Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Be sure to click the Soundcloud link below to hear the song “Does Sound Have a Shadow” I hope you’ll enjoy and share this post with a friend. Thank you!

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In the early 2000’s, and I had a pretty amazing run of collaborations in songwriting. I loved that process of writing together. I always felt that I was a better writer when Margot was there to bounce ideas off of and to reign it all in. I don’t readily have the full list of songs that we wrote together, but there were some great ones. Songs like “Shine On” and “That’s Kent,” that played very important roles in my life as a singer/songwriter.

One of the songs we wrote was called “Does Sound Have a Shadow.” It’s a mysterious song full of questions that probably can never be answered. I guess those are possibly the best kinds of questions. Somehow, I can see that the silent life that I’m living these days could be the shadow side of sound. I’ve spent my life immersed in music making and now I lived in its shadow, silence. Possibly the “goodbye” at the end of the song is me saying goodbye to my beloved music. “I see us in the wind, you and I… “

I hope you enjoy. Hal

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Does Sound Have a Shadow

Does sound have a shadow?
Does it fall into a place I cannot see?
Does it follow the dark of the river?
Or the lining of the dusk in the trees?

The sound that I know is never ending
It falls into the place where I feel
The echo of the river rippling water
In the call of a bird in the field.

Her sound is the echo
This shadow I’m listening
I’m wading through silence
Of sorrow born in water

I hear this bird calling
Her sound whispered crying
A shadow of longing
Her flight to become free
She’s soaring to the sea.

Does sound have a shadow?
Does it hide inside the waiting of the trees?
Does it hope to lead a journey to remind us
Of the silence in our circle you and me?

Goodbye my friend,
I see us in the wind, you and I
You are on your way
Goodbye, Goodbye.

Does sound have a shadow?

- H. Walker and M. Milcetich

Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the occasional Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Be sure to click the Soundcloud link below to hear the song “A Humpback in Ohio.” I hope you’ll enjoy and share this post with a friend. Thank you!

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In the early 2000’s, I started working with the Ohio Arts Council as an artist-in-residence in schools around Ohio. It was a perfect fit. I’d bring a carload of musical instruments to a school and I’d spend anywhere from two to six weeks teaching, creating and collaborating with students. Not having to follow a curriculum, I got to teach what I wanted to teach — singing, songwriting, harmonica, stick dancing, banakula making and playing and more. I loved that work so much.

One of my favorite residencies was at Tussing Elementary School in Pickerington Ohio. Tussing students were studying whales with a sister school in Barrow, Alaska. The culminating event of this project would be the erection of a huge sculpture of a whale’s tail in the pond of the school. The students and I came up with the idea of mapping the whale’s journey from Barrow, Alaska to Pickerington, Ohio in a song. I went back to my hotel room and wrote one of my favorite songs of all time, “A Humpback in Ohio.”

I hope you enjoy.

A Humpback in Ohio

My journey begins in the Arctic Ocean
North of Barrow, Alaska
I’ll swim through the Bering Straits into the Bering Sea
From north to south, I’ll soar the waters of the Pacific Ocean
Through the Panama Canal into the Caribbean Sea

And then north through the Yucatan Channel
I’ll swim to the Gulf of Mexico
I’ll race to the old Mississippi
And then run to the Ohio

Chorus
I’m a whale on a journey underneath the sun
And I’m swimming home to Pickerington
A humpback in Ohio betcha never thought you’d see
But I’m on my way so be looking for me.

My journey continues as I move to the mouth of the Scioto River
I swim upstream Big Walnut Creek, I’m almost home
I turn to the east, Blacklick Creek, listen close for the gift I’m bringing.
As I leap through the brook of old Tussing Farm, you’ll hear my song.

So, people gather round with your children
And bring your grandparents, too.
You gotta carry me over this portage
To the pond of the Tussing School

To Chorus

I’ll see you in February

by Hal Walker

Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the occasional Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Be sure to click the links below to hear the song “Love Grows.” I’m posting two versions. (circa 2020 and 2023) Please enjoy and share this post with a friend. Thank you!

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Love Grows

On Saturday night, I had the opportunity to sit around a bonfire for a community song circle. It was such a treat. It happened at Fred Fuller Park as the closing event of the Reeds and Roots Skillshare. With a three quarter moon shining in the southwest, the song leaders were teaching singable songs celebrating earth, peace, moon and community. There were guitars, a drum, a ukulele, and a couple tongue drums gathered around that fire. In the low light, I could barely recognize the individuals faces, but the fire's glow transformed that group into a timeless gathering of human voices. It was such a beautiful night in Ohio.

The song circle was happening just a block and a half away from my home. After a cold shower, I put on a flannel shirt and rode my scooter down South Chestnut Street to the park. It didn't take long to find the group nestled around the fire by the main stage. When I arrived, I was warmly greeted with several voices calling out "Hal Walker!" It felt good to be recognized. At least one person vocally referred to me as a "legend." I guess that's what happens when chronic illness forces you into the hidden recesses of a darkened bedroom. I’ve reached legendary status. It felt like a big deal to be venturing away from my bed for a social evening with normal people. The warm welcome calmed my nerves.

After sitting quietly and listening to a few songs, I offered to share one of my own. Mallory handed me her guitar and I took it into my arms like an old friend. It had been months since I’d played the guitar and even longer since I’d sung a song. I put my soft fingers on those steel strings and I sang “Love Grows.” Then line by line, I taught it to the group. After a couple run throughs, we were singing quite nicely in harmony. “Love Grows” is about the power of a smile shared between two people.

Love grows right now when I smile with you
Our hearts expand in the light of this room
These eyes are widening eyes and I know
This voice defines the cries of my soul
My heart is truly beginning to bloom.
My heart is truly beginning to bloom.

Let’s open the windows and open the doors
and notice this moment like never before
We’ll break through the barriers and reach out a hand
and offer a peace to a stranger or friend

We’ll raise the whole building and rise up above
From the part of us that feels and knows how to love
And we’ll sing of the goodness and speak of the truth
And the joy in our hearts will enlighten this room

No matter your struggle, no matter your pain
There’s a love right now that’s bringing on a change
So open your eyes and take in the view
Cause right now I’m smiling with you
Right now I’m smiling, right now I’m smiling
Right now I’m smiling with you.

I wrote this song years ago for the “ingathering” service in September at my church. On that Sunday morning, I first sang it through once by myself from the front of the room. Then for each repetition, additional voices stepped forward to join me. By the end of the performance, the adult choir, the children's choir, the folk orchestra and even a couple members of the bell choir were singing and playing along with me. That performance of “Love Grows” is one of the many memorable moments in my 25 years of music making at the UU Church of Kent.

For a long time, the song was just a five line chorus, but eventually, I added a verse. I really love singing the verse. It feels so good coming out of my mouth. Unfortunately, on Saturday night, I couldn’t remember the words. I was humbled and disappointed. I attempted it twice but I stumbled both times half way through. My memory just wasn't kicking in. Fortunately, it was a loving and forgiving group around that fire. When my words dropped off, they howled at the moon to show their support.

Singing Love Grows on Saturday night around the fire inspired me to bring back another episode of "A Body of Work.” I’m glad to feature this song. Thanks for being here. I hope you enjoy it and I encourage you to sing along.

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2023 with piano —

2020 with guitar —

Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the occasional Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Be sure to click the links below to hear the song “Come Home.” I’m posting two versions. (circa 1995 and 2022) Please enjoy and share this post with a friend. Thank you!

Come Home

In 1994, I bought a one way bus ticket to Eugene Oregon from where I was living in Boston. Boston and New York hadn't worked out for me, so, lacking any better ideas, I figured I’d see what I was missing in the great Northwest. On the way west, I took a pitstop in Cleveland and I never got back on the bus. Within a few days of being home in Kent, I heard the call of the Cuyahoga River. I made the decision to stop searching for some "…perfectly cool community to make me perfectly happy." At the age of 28, I decided to come home to Kent and to stay.

Upon making this decision, I played a couple open 9th chords that I’d learned in Boston and I wrote this personal anthem of a song, “Come Home.” Upon first listen, it may sound like an overly sentimental song about the Cuyahoga River, but I hope you can hear the universal theme that runs beneath the surface. I don't know about you, but I've spent my life seeking happiness outside of myself -- always thinking that something out there or somewhere over there would do it for me.

There may be better coffee in Boston and there very well may be a community of artists in Austin, but wherever I go, I'm gonna find myself waiting there for me. In the song, the old man standing by the river is me coming “face to face with the old man wisdom” — face to face with the chronic illness, the disappointments, the grief, the loss… and all the good stuff too. It’s me coming face to face with what is.

I've heard it spoken before in a derogatory manner that the Cuyahoga River has a magnetic pull that makes people get stuck here. I don’t believe it. I prefer to think that the river has called me home and how blessed I am to have a place to call my home. What more could I ask for than the four seasons, the Haymaker Farmer’s Market and the healing river running through town keeping the pulse alive.

Last week, I mustered up the strength to sing at the piano. It was a bit tenuous but it felt good. There were some very high notes that I didn't quite reach, but I heard sounds coming out of my mouth that I haven't heard it a while. I'm grateful for that. I find it fascinating to compare the 1995 recording of the song to the 2022 version. Back then, I could really open it up to the high notes. (listen to 2:24 in the Soundcloud link) Please let me know what you think in the comments. Thanks for listening. I’ll see you back here on Saturday for the next episode.

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Come Home

Old man standin’ by the river
Old man waits, he stays forever
He’s face to face with the old man wisdom
Old man remains in one place just to listen to the river.

So many far off cities callin’ out my name
Offer recognition and they promise fame
New friends and romance everything’ll change,
Maybe start a rock band

So many far off mountains callin’ out my name
Offer peace of mind and the cool clean rain
New friends and romance everything’ll change
What if it’s my last chance?

“Come home” says the river,
There’s no more time for wandering from city to city
looking for the perfectly cool community
to make me perfectly happy...
come home says the river time to lay down your broken body
by the banks of the beautiful Cuyahoga River....

There’s probably better coffee in Boston
And a commmunity of artists in Austin
And there’s a woman that’s been waiting in Oregon
Maybe I could put my roots down in all of them.

So I move to Washington to find my body
And then Colorado try to free my body
And back to new York, maybe sell my body
And then walk to the desert try to save my body.

Well, now I’m swimmin’ in the healing waters of the broken river, 
I’m waiting to deliver my open body
to the Cuyahoga river fall asleep in the water
cause it might take forever and always I will have faith and I’ll stay

Come home says the river
there’s no more time for wandering
from city to city looking for the perfectly cool community
to make me perfectly happy...
come home says the river time to lay down your broken body
by the banks of the beautiful Cuyahoga River....

Old man standin’ by the river
Old man waits, he stays forever
He’s face to face with the old man wisdom
Old man remains in one place just to listen to the river.

Come home. Come home and stay.
Stay.

Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the occasional Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Click the links below to hear the song, “One New Heart.” Thank you for being here!

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One New Heart

Yesterday morning, in an act of rebellion, I pushed myself out of bed, took a shower, got dressed, loaded up the wheelchair and I went to church. The rebellious part of me said, "Damn this illness. I refuse to lay here in bed on one more beautiful Sunday morning. I don't care about the consequences...I'm getting the hell out of this house."

It turns out that I'm glad I went. My rebellion quieted when the opening music began. The congregation was greeted with a choral version of "One New Heart,” a song that Margot Milcetich, Ted Voneida and I wrote for a UU service on the subject of Yom Kippur. During the early part of the pandemic, I turned the song into a virtual choir (see below). I'm not one who typically observes this holiest day of the Jewish year, but on Sunday morning, I was sure glad to be reminded of the season of introspection and the day of at-one-ment in the Jewish tradition.

To educate myself further on the subject, I made a phone call to my friend Rabbi Lee Moore. She assured me that the music and the lyrics of “One New Heart” fit quite nicely with Yom Kippur. Then, she gave me a nourishing 20 minute lesson on the high holidays of Judaism. Right now, my brain is swimming in the details, so I'll refrain from giving you a summary. But there are a few things that stuck with me.

First of all, a phone call is always better than a wikipedia search. Hearing Lee's voice on the other side of the phone fullfilled the lines of the song that sing, "I turn to you and you turn to me." On Yom Kippur, we seek foregiveness as individuals but also as a collective. For the sake of the people, we stand before God. “I hold you as you hold me.” Living in the isolation of chronic illness, I long for the prayerful sense of community that Yom Kippur offers.

The day of “at-one-ment” is a time to put an end to last year and to begin again in Love. In this season, we return to our best selves. At church on Sunday, I joined in a ritual of writing down the things for which I need to forgive myself and for which I need to forgive others. I found the ritual to be meaningful and helpful. It was a refreshing change from laying in this bed regretting the past. Later that day, I rode my three wheeler to the river. Laying on the grass and in the gorgeous October sun, I prayed for letting go.

That’s all for now, everybody. I’ll be back as usual on Saturday. I hope you enjoy the song. And in the spirit of Yom Kippur, “May you be sealed in the book of life.” — Hal

One New Heart

One new heart
I will make an offering
a brand new start
in a season of turning inward
toward the soul and the softening
of one new heart
in a season of atoning.

I hold you as you hold me.
I turn to you as you turn to me.

H. Walker, M. Milcetich, T. Voneida

Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the occasional Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Don’t miss the buttons below to hear the song, “Open Body.” Thank you for being here!

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Open Body

There’s no one particular song that will be the theme song for “Living in a Body.” Over time, it’s the entire body of work that will tell the story. But if I were personifying each song in a particular role, "Open Body" would be one of the founding members of this publication. Born out of a stick figure logo that I designed in my early years of living with chronic illness, “Open Body” is a song of surrender. Immersed in love, the body is wide open in a posture of celebration and pure being. The song lays the foundation for honesty, humility and acceptance -- all the places I hope to explore in this creative adventure called living... in a body, that is.

As the music director of the UU church of Kent, one of my most outspoken critics was Caroline Arnold. Like several of my favorite Unitarians who are no longer with us, Caroline was an old school liberal activist who wasn't afraid to make her opinions known. One Sunday morning, after I had sung "Open Body" as the musical meditation, she let me that she didn't like the song. She had been through open heart surgery and preferred not to be reminded of that gruesome operation. I assured her that the song was meant purely as a metaphor for opening to the eternal wonder of life, but she wasn't sold on the idea. I miss you, Caroline. You were one of the good ones.

Over the years, Margot Milcetich and I have written some great songs together and this is one of them. Margot, if you’re reading this, let’s write another some time soon. I don’t think it’s time to give up yet. ❤️

If I could, I would fix the harmonies in the recording below, but we’ll have to settle with this for now. Leonard Cohen writes, "There's a crack in everything.  That's how the light gets out." Today, I’ll think of the imperfections as the light shining this song out into the world. Thank you so much for listening.

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Open Body

by Hal Walker and Margot Milcetich

Open body body open
body body open open
broken body open open
body body open open

Open my body and let Love wash me clear of
All that divides me and let Love pull me open
Show me compassion, true humility
Purify the thoughts that are moving inside of me.

Born in wisdom, bathed in beauty
Blessed in the presence of the holy mystery.
Circles of justice are growing in silence
While the songs of the people are crying to be free.

O formless presence, fountain of being
I’m calling for the mother of Earth just to open me

Open body body open
body body open open
broken body open open
body body open open

Open body broken open
Body body open open
Open broken body open
Body body open open

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Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the occasional Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Don’t miss the Soundcloud imbed at the bottom to hear the song, “Big Bang Rumble.” Thank you for being here! Please share. Hal

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I think I got a lot of light to give
I know I got a lot of livin' to live.
I want to run and jump and stumble
And do the dance of the Big Bang Rumble.

If I want to run and jump and stumble so bad, why did I just spend the last four hours sifting through old hard drives? Why did I open up TikTok about 20 times? Why did I stay inside on this gorgeous August Sunday afternoon? Ugh. My brain is melting. I didn’t find the file that I was looking for in the hard drives, but I did stumble across a great song — Big Bang Rumble.

I wrote Big Bang Rumble with Ella and David Hassler at the Wick Poetry House back in 2015. In 6th grade, Ella had written a poem called "Ladder to the Stars.” Our song was inspired by that poem. The three of us performed it together the next year in front of a nice crowd at the Kent Stage.

Big Bang Rumble was another instance of the power of collaboration. On our own, none of us could’ve made the song happen. It took the magical combination of three minds running and jumping and stumbling together in the dance of the big bang rumble. It took the bounce between three imaginations to climb that playful ladder to the stars.

Ella's poem reminds me to break free of those hard drives and those damn TikTok notifications. My melted brain deserves so much better. She writes, "I've been thinking about living like a river, never ending, never stopping, always rushing, my waters, a looking glass. " Our song speaks of wondering — “as the wings of the willow are bending.” It’s a song about dreaming — “with the birds and the bees (that) I’m befriending.”

We sure are lucky to be part of this big bang rumble called life. Maybe it was worth four hours in a hard drive to have rediscovered this gem of a song. The melody makes me think of happy strolling. The rhythm makes me want to smile and snap and skip. Walking to the rhythm of my heartbeat, Big Bang Rumble has got me whistling again. Oh… by the way… In the morning, I’ll be climbing up to Mars.

Enjoy. ❤️ Hal

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Big Bang Rumble

I’ve been thinkin’ — walkin' to the rhythm of my heartbeat
an’ I’ve been wonderin’ — soakin’ in the love of the sun’s heat
I’ve been dreamin’   — climbin up the limbs of a willow tree

Chorus
I’ve been livin’ in the big bang rumble
in the morning I’m climbin’ up to Mars
I’ve been searchin’ for a sunset tumble
imagination is my ladder to the stars

I’ve been thinkin’ — rollin’ down a river never ending
I’ve been wonderin’ —  as the wings of the willow are a-bending
I’ve been dreamin’  —with the birds and the bees I’m befriending (to Chorus)

I  think I got a lotta light to give
I know I got a lot o’ livin' to live
I wanna run and jump and stumble
and do the dance of the big bang rumble

I've been thinkin’,  I’ve been wond’rin’,  I’ve been dreamin’
I’ve been walk-in’, I’ve been talkin’  an’ I’ve been breath-in’
I’ve been hop-in’, ain’t been smokin’ and I’ve been feelin’
I’ve been lovin’, double troublin’ and I’ve been seeing. (to Chorus)

Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the occasional Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Don’t miss the Soundcloud imbed at the bottom to hear the song, “Into Life.” Thank you for being here! Please share. Hal

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Into Life

I’m not proud of it, but there was a time when I couldn’t get onto a stage without first heading out to the parking lot to get a couple hits of marijuana. I had falsely convinced myself that I was somehow a better musician when I was high. I relied heavily on a performance technique I proudly called “100% improv.” It wasn’t truly 100%, but it’s true that I made up a lot of the music right there on the spot. It makes me chuckle and cringe to think of it now. I see how “100% improv” was a code for chronically unprepared and unrehearsed. It wasn’t until years later that I discovered the sober art of performing a concert — crafting the songs, creating a set list and rehearsing the list until I was ready.

For a full year in 1989, three Fridays a month, I played a “100% improv” show at Brady’s Cafe in Kent. JP and I would set up the microphones, turn on the reverb machine and get the stage all ready to go. Then we’d head out to the parking lot. When we returned, with a heightened perspective of what’s possible, I would jump right in to make the magic happen. For at least a little while, I was wide open to the amazing adventure of music happening in the moment. It’s true that some magic happened in those shows, but I clearly recall the extreme self-consciousness and paranoia that accompanied the high. I remember facing the mid-concert break with shame and fear of the audience. Listening back to the recordings the next morning usually proved that a certain percentage of the magic was happening just in my own brain. I still have all those Brady’s tapes in a box and I can’t really bare to listen to them. I cherish that young man, but it’s painful to witness his self-centered confusion.

“Into Life” was a song born out of “100% improv.” In about 1994, I was performing a solo show at the North Water Street Gallery in Kent. The reverb was all set, a friend was running the sound and after a quick trip to the parking lot, I returned to the stage. I improvised this song from my heart and off the top of my head. I find it remarkable that this gem came into being so complete on the very first singing.

I don’t know what the lyrics mean, but the emotion speaks to me even today. More than ever these days, with ME/CFS always looming in the background, it’s been a great challenge to “relax into life.” Also, I remember my dad questioning the reference to a gun and asked what “shoot that gun” means. To be honest, I have no idea. I have almost no experience or interest in things related to guns. At the time, I just thought it sounded cool. (see lyrics below)

It’s interesting for me to think about the pride that I held for my ability to wing it. Maybe I had a sense that it was counter-cultural and revolutionary. I remember once when I was at a David Wilcox concert at the Wildcat Ranch. I was a little bit high during the show and I actually had the nerve to call out “100% improv” as a request. I think David may have actually taken the challenge, but I’m still cringing to this day.

As I said, years later, I learned to love the sober craft of rehearsing songs and the easing comfort of having a setlist. Before the pandemic hit, I felt like I was just coming into my own as a concert performer. I love connecting with an audience and the thought of standing up on a stage high on marijuana is terrifying.

I hope one day I get to perform live again. I miss it so much.

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Into Life

You have the shotgun, you know that it was too sharp
but you had to shoot it anyway after dark
You felt kinda peaceful today, spent most of the day in the sun
Your wrist was bothering you all day long, but that’s alright, it was still fun.
You know the difference or maybe you’ll never know.
and you’ve seen the changing face that you held in your sorrow

Well I’ve been at the same place for sometime now
Maybe room for a change, maybe time for going away,
but you love you’re baby too much, shoot that gun then
You hold your honey so much
come back unchanged and then

Hold your hand in his. Hold it forever.
And ride those changing winds
I’ve known it forever.
She’s breaking her back for you.
She’s loved you all year.
And I’m growing older.

And one day you’ll know.
You see yourself standing in the same place,
You keep on racing.
You’re racing your heart,
It seems you can’t relax.
And you move in your heart,
It seems you can’t relax.
And you feel in your heart,
It seems you can’t relax

Into Life.

Hal Walker - 1994

Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the every other Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Don’t miss the two videos (above and below) to hear “Lilac City.” Thank you for being here! Hal

One of my greatest joys is the process of writing a song. It’s also true that one of my greatest fears is facing the blank page — that daunting emptiness where the writing process begins. One thing that always helps me get started is working with others. Some of the best songs that I’ve ever written were born out of collaboration. Whether it’s an old friend or a classroom of elementary students, the creative energy of others feeds me and helps to get the magic going. One of my earliest memories of this kind of magic was in an elementary school teacher’s lounge where, with the help of a 2nd grade poet, David Hassler and I created the iconic Spring song, “Lilac City.”

Through the Ohio Arts Council Arts Learning program, David had been working as a poet-in-residence at St. Charles Elementary School in Lima, Ohio. I was grateful for the invitation to join him as a guest musician. It was this job in 1999 that launched my career as a teaching artist working in schools all around Ohio.

David was busy writing poems about Spring with 2nd graders. As the class shouted out words having to do with Spring, he chalked them up on the board. Then they drew lines connecting the words in search of unexpected combinations. Combining words like “sunshine” and “happy” created new sparks of meaning for the whole class. At one point, a quiet second grader, who had remained silent throughout the first part of the residency, spoke up with her idea. Little Kathy Rower said her poem aloud:

I’m going tulip crazy in this Lilac City
Dandelion faces all around me
I’m going daisy in this mud delicious world.

At lunch. David was excited to share with me this classroom breakthrough. We stopped eating, got out the guitar and started making some magic happen. By the end of lunch, we had enough of a song to share with the 2nd graders. By the end of the residency, we had finished a song that lives on to this day. For more than 20 years, most every Spring, David Hassler and I have had some reason to tell the story of Kathy Rower and to sing “Lilac City.”

I’m grateful that I had the strength on Saturday to sit on the porch and sing with Hassler. I think we sound pretty good. (Video above) In the Spring 2021 YouTube video below, I got to sing with one of my favorite singers of all time, Abby Kurus. Enjoy.

Lilac City

I’m goin’ tulip crazy in this lilac city
Dandelion faces all around
I’m goin’ daisy crazy
In this mud delicious world
And spring is springing from the ground.

I’m feeling bloomin’ silly
With these yellow lilies
Sparkling butterflies in my hair.
I’m skippin’ sunshine happy
Through this muddle puddle world
‘Cause spring is truly in the air.

Spring is in the air
It’s blooming everywhere
Spring is popping out
It makes me want to shout

©1999 - H. Walker, D. Hassler, K. Rower

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Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the every other Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Don’t miss the Soundcloud imbed at the bottom to hear “Sister, Sister.” Thank you for being here! Hal

Next week, I’ll be traveling to Texas where I get to spend a few days with my three dear sisters — Julie, Johanna and KK. We’re converging in Austin to see my daughter’s post-college professional acting debut. Hallie is playing Columbia in Zach Theatre’s production of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. You can get your tickets here.

At this particular moment as I lie here in bed, I can’t imagine boarding an airplane and flying to Austin. But I’m determined to get there. There’s no way I’m gonna miss this reunion. The airline will carry my electric wheelchair for free and I plan to spend the whole trip quietly practicing presence, minimal exertion and next right action. If you see a guy in the airport on a super stylish wheelchair wearing silencing headphones and an eye mask, it’s probably me.

When I get there, I’ll have sibling time with the three women who helped make me into the person that I am. What a gift it’s been to spend my life with these three amazing sisters — the best aunts that a dad could ever hope for for his daughter.

Julia Wyson will travel with her husband Edmund and her son, Charles. Julie’s the oldest. She operates on a whole different level than most regular humans. She’s kind of a super woman. Not only is she a web designer and the executive director of the Shakespeare Youth Festival in LA, but at the age of 60, she started a whole new career. She’s teaching English to 6th and 7th graders in a public school in Historic South Central L.A. Every weekday at 10:20 am, when she’s driving to school, she’s my life coach and advisor. Considering where I am today, she hasn’t always gotten it right, but she does her best and I love her for it.

Johanna is the wild aunt in the family. She’s the one that connected so well with toddler Hallie around the subject of poop. Then, when Hallie and her friends became teenagers, Johanna would take them on late night drives to share intimately about their lives. She’s Hallie’s number one fan and wouldn’t question for a minute traveling to Texas to see her shine. Johanna isn’t afraid to push the edges a little bit so that everyone at the table gets heard. As a public speaking coach, she’s a master storyteller, a deep listener and a champion for your true voice. Book her today here.

I can‘t wait to see Caroline and her twins, Anna and Hunter. The twins are teenagers now and their dad, KK’s husband, was my best friend in high school. If I recall correctly, I think Tod and KK hooked up at my wedding in 1996. 😊 Caroline was the youngest and we grew up calling her KK. (It fits her so beautifully.) She’s a first grade teacher in Denver and I can’t tell you how lucky those students are. I’ve heard that Ms. Walker’s specialty is teaching foundational literacy skills and I know from experience that she does it with deep love and a great sense of humor. Even while KK carries the whole world in her arms, she’s always there to assure me that I’m not alone and that she loves me very, very much.

On a rainy October evening in the early 90’s, I took a walk with my guitar to the Free School above the Zephyr in downtown Kent. I found a nice waltz groove in an open G tuning and I wrote “Sister, Sister.” It’s a heartfelt love song for Julie, Johanna and KK. Believe it or not, the song is about 30 years old now.

I wrote the song on a Tuesday night. At the time, Julie was an actress in Chicago, Johanna was an artist and a poet somewhere in the world and Caroline was far off in Oregon finding her way. I was holding down the fort in Kent. I hope you enjoy the song. I’ll see you in Austin. Hal

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Sister, Sister

Sister sister, three times over
In far away places on a night in October.
God is raining all over, all over
I’m wet to the bone and couldn’t be much colder on Tuesday.

With the wind and the water North of Chicago
Is walking the daughter who left home so long ago.
She’s waiting, she’s waiting, so patiently waiting
For the opening night when the spotlight’ll shine
in her eyes… in her eyes.

Oh, birds fly away. It’s too cold to stay… on Tuesday.

She’s the artist and the poet, she was cursed in the middle.
She’s a dancer and a teacher, now she’s learning the fiddle.
She’s waiting, she’s waiting, so patiently waiting
For the passing of night, for the woman inside to be free.
She’ll be free.

Oh rain, rain, rain, rain, it’s a beautiful day… on Tuesday.

The most miles from the mother is the youngest the baby.
Her older sisters and her brother just about made her crazy.
She’s waiting, she’s waiting so patiently waiting,
For the years on her own to allow her to finally come home.
She’ll come home.

Oh butterfly, fly. It’s time for to die… on Tuesday.

Oh Sister, oh sister, oh sister, I’m sorry
But to send you a letter, I’ve been kind of lazy.
But now is the time for the brother to send you
A song for you, a song for you, a song for you to listen to.
A part of me, apart from you, a prayer that you’ll surrender to
The goddess moon, the goddess moon
The goddess moon is watching you on Tuesday.

Sister sister, three times over
In far away places on a night in October
God is raining all over all over
I’m wet to the bone and couldn’t be much colder on Tuesday.

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Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the every other Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Thank you for being here! Hal

Underneath the Surface

There’s no doubt that my dad was my biggest fan, but I never got the sense that he appreciated my original songs as much as I think they deserved appreciation. :) I remember back in ‘92 when I came downstairs to sing him one of my first originals, “As Though I’m Trapped Inside.” He responded by letting me know he felt the song was a bit too “self-absorbed.” He was right, but c’mon dad, it’s a great song!

He did have a favorite song of mine though... Hallie came out of the womb singing perfectly in tune and there’s nothing my dad loved more that to hear Hal and Hallie sing, “Underneath the Surface.” In this post, you can hear three generations singing three renditions of my most “Disney-esque” original song. It’s a song that I hope someday to make into an illustrated children’s book.

Click the video above to hear Harold Jr. and I sing a verse.

There’s nothing I love much more than huddling around an upright piano with a bunch of third, fourth and fifth graders.  It’s my favorite age group.  Their head voices are so pure and so angelic. I love the challenge of convincing the toughest kid in the room that he loves singing and that he actually sounds pretty amazing singing way up high.  For many young voices, singing starts getting fun when they learn to drop the jaw and fill the head with the golden tone of a hooting falsetto.

After I explain that my voice is a “man’s” voice and that I want them to sing in their “children’s” voices, I ask them to sing what I sing - “I go then you go.” Then I start improvising short phrases to explore the range, the timbre and the possibilities of the voices that are in the room. We’ve had some magical times around pianos all over the state of Ohio.

That was how “Underneath the Surface” was born.  I was in Yellow Springs, Ohio leading a residency with the Mad River Theatre Works. I can’t recall the details, but we needed a song about the stories that are hidden in every life, a song that explores the many voices that live beneath the surface. Fueled by coffee and a good muffin from the Emporium, (see Your Hometown Story) I approached those children around that piano with nothing but a willingness to collaborate. Within a day or two, we had written a profound song that I’ve been singing for 20 years now. (See the lyrics below)

Here’s Hallie and I singing together when she was four or five:

Here’s the 2022 version:

Underneath the Surface

Underneath the surface hidden down below,
There’s a story waiting,  waiting to be told.
And deep inside the story there’s wonder to behold
Passion, joy and sorrow, gifts as pure as gold.

In every rock and every stone a thousand voices find a home.
In every seed of every form, awaits a secret to be born.
So, listen for the whisper, rolling thunder all around you.
If you do, it’ll turn into a memory to hold.
Listen for the rocks, trees and the bumblebees around you.
Everywhere you know that there’s a story to unfold.

Underneath the surface, hidden down below,
There’s a story waiting.  Listen, listen…
Listen and you’ll know.

Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the every other Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Thank you for being here! Hal

When a Guy Moves to New York City

In 2021, my daughter Hallie moved to New York City to be an actor on Broadway.  She did it for real.  First, she rocked her college experience in musical theatre, then she took off to Atlanta to make a bunch of money during a pandemic and then she and her boyfriend scored an awesome apartment in Brooklyn with an amazing rooftop view of Manhattan. She pays the rent with her own money, she buys her own groceries and she works her butt off doing auditions and callbacks in the city.  Hallie Walker is “four foot eleven and kind of a rockstar.”

Recently, she booked her first major job. At the Zach Theatre in Austin, Texas,  Hallie will be playing the roles of Usherette and Columbia in a production of the “Rocky Horror Picture Show.”  Two months in Austin… way to go, Hallie!  It’s not gonna be easy, but I’m gonna do whatever has to be done to see the show in person. 

I share this with you in order to contrast my own experience of “moving to New York City.”  In the Spring of 1993, I worked on a crew painting dorm rooms in Tallahassee, Florida.  It was there that I met my future wife, Hallie’s mom, but first I needed to take my shot at making it big in New York. I took my $1400 from the job and I moved into JP Allen’s parents house in Great Neck, Long Island.  Several days a week, I commuted into the city to wander the streets in hopes that someone might notice me. The rest of the time was spent on late night HBO, sleeping till two in the afternoon and coming up with big ideas in the purple VW bus that was parked in the Allen’s driveway. I did get a 40 minute slot at the Bitter End and for a couple weeks I even worked at a bagel shop on the upper east side.  But the main thing I got from my New York experience was this song, “When a Guy Moves to New York City.”  It’s my most musical theatre’esque song and it’s a good one.  It tells the classic story of a young man trying to make a friend in the big city… and there’s actually a happy ending.

I’m glad to say that both my voice and my performance have gotten better in the last 30 years.  In 1993, I wasn’t ready for New York.  I was still floundering in the world of Stolen Quarters. (See Ep. 8 — “The Dark Side of a Pinball Wizard.") The ironic thing is that I’m ready now!  (Except for the fact that I’m 56, 85% bedridden and I can barely leave the house. lol)

Today, I offer you the opportunity to listen to two versions of this song — v. 1993 and v. 2022.  TBH, I’m embarrassed to share the rendition sung by my younger self.  (Soundcloud link below) It makes me cringe to listen.  What was I thinking?!  It’s just weird.  I go from a weird old man’s voice to a bad English accent to a very strange black man’s voice and then an even stranger adolescent voice.    This is possibly the most vulnerable thing yet that I’ve shared here on Living in a Body.  Please go easy on me.  I’m super sensitive right now.  :)

On the other hand,  I’m quite pleased with the 2022 version.  The YouTube video below shows a seasoned veteran singing in his own voice and telling a very touching story of youthful yearning to connect.  Enjoy.

When a Guy Moves to New York City

I’m gonna make a friend tonight OK    
I’m gonna let myself be denied, that’s alright.

When a guy moves to New York City
He finds out that there’s no welcome committee
So he tries to be especially friendly 
But the truth is friends just don’t come easy

He’s fresh and ready to go hello hello   
He’s got the time for a Joe, Ok
When a guy moves to New York City,
Names and faces tend to turn kinda blurry
He says hello to every single person that he sees.

Hello woman on the street with your pretty hat and shoes
Are you someone I could meet for some dinner and some blues?
Hello man down in the subway station.
Could I offer you some conversation?

When a guy moves to New York City,
People seem at first to be too busy,
But the truth is they’re as ready to find a friend as he.

There’s the people you meet cause of the things you do
and there’s the people you didn’t meet cause of the things you didn’t do
Then there’s the people you didn’t meet cause of the things you do
And the people you meet cause of the things you didn’t do.

I’m gonna do until I’m done I’m gonna make a friend
I’m gonna prove that I’m the one who’s gonna let you in
I’m gonna walk on Washington Square
And blow my harmonica for everyone sitting there.
I’m gonna stand at the top of the city
and tell everybody I think that I’m ready

When  guy moves to NYC,
Sometimes things might turn kinda crazy
He might even get a little bit lonely
And he’s probably spending too much money.

Hello brother with long hair, Could I offer you a chair?
Hello preacher standing there would you offer me a prayer
Hello woman in the jeans…

“Hey you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
“Hey you’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.”

Copyright 1993, Hal Walker

Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the every other Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out a musical gem. Thanks for being here! Hal

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Father Abraham

It was the morning of Saturday, February 12. I needed to decide what song to present for the next installment of “A Body of Work” when an amazing sequence of events unfolded. Today’s episode chronicles the incredible serendipity that lead to my made-in-heaven song choice, “Father Abraham.”

For years now, I’ve kept a little Don Drumm sun bowl full of USB thumb drives. On Saturday, I decided that it would be a good day to take a deep dive into those drives to see what kind of “Hal history” we might uncover.

As I prepared for the expedition, I realized that before I could begin, my bedside shelf would need some reorganizing. If I was gonna spend the afternoon with those USB’s, my docking station needed to be within an much easier reach of the bed. It soon struck me that a velcro strap or a zip-tie would be the perfect solution for holding that docking station in place. Saturday is Arnel’s day off, so I ventured down the stair lift on my own. On a mission to find a zip-tie, I hopped on my super nice electric wheelchair and I “low key glided” into the back room.

When I got there, I searched through some random bins. I found tools, cables, kitchen utensils and some other stuff that should’ve been thrown away years ago. I eventually found the zip-ties but ALSO, I spotted two ancient SD cards. (A 1GB card and a 128MB card) I was intrigued, so I slid them into my pocket and headed back upstairs on my own personal incline. (Thank you GoFundMe)

Once I settled in with my newly zip-tied docking station, I found a few gems on those thumb drives. (I’ll tell you about those another time) After dinner, I ventured into the SD cards. The very first file that I opened on the 1GB card was an unnamed audio file — STE-000BA.wav

When I pushed play, I was so pleased to hear the young voices of the Summit Children’s Choir singing my original composition, “Father Abraham.” You see, in the early 2000’s, I had a wonderful decade-long tenure working alongside Frank and Arlene Jacobs, the founders of the Summit Choral Society. In 2009, Frank asked me to compose a song for a concert celebrating the 200th birthday of Abraham Lincoln. The concert would happen on Oct. 24, 2009 and would feature two world premieres — 200 children (with harmonicas) performing my work and the Masterworks Chorale (with orchestra) performing Dorn Younger’s “Lincoln: A Symphonic Tribute.” You can watch the performance of “Father Abraham” below, but be sure to read on to discover the rest of the magic!

Pleased with my SD card discovery, I immediately recognized that this would be a fine enough song choice for today’s episode, but wouldn’t it be better to save this song to coincide with President’s Day or the anniversary of the emancipation proclamation or better yet, Lincoln’s birthday? Well… just for the heck of it, I googled “abraham lincoln birthday.” Guess what I discovered…

Isn’t that incredible? I mean, what are the chances?! What are the chances that on this day of all days, I find those SD cards that have been hiding out of sight for so many years. I don’t know about you, but I was blown away.

Today, in celebration of Abraham Lincoln’s 2013th birthday, I present to you my original song, commissioned in 2009 by the Summit Choral Society, Father Abraham. I hope you enjoy.

Abraham Lincoln drives a freedom train
In a couple o’ days he’s gonna break these chains
And carry me away, no more a slave.
Lately, I’ve been thinkin’ he’s a mighty man
With a miracle plan to fill that train
And drive it all the way to the freedom land.

My country ‘tis of thee how long will it be
‘till all my children are free?
So long with these chains on I can’t hardly breathe.
How long will this skin burden me?
Here comes that train!

O father, I know you.
I gotta believe it’s true
You’re the freedom man.
You’re Father Abraham.

For my brothers and sisters too,
This freedom is comin' soon.
He’s a righteous man.
He’s Father Abraham.

O mother, I’m saying to you
These slav’ry days are through.
We’re hand in hand
with Father Abraham Lincoln.

I’m holdin’ the hand of a brother’s hand
Who’s holdin the hand of a mother.
She’s holdin’ the hand of a child’s hand
Who’s holdin the hand of another.
He’s holdin’ the hand of a sister’s hand

On our way to the Freedom Land.

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Thank you for reading this. Thank you for listening. It means a lot to me. As usual, I’ll be back on Saturday for more “Living in a Body.” Have a great Tuesday. I appreciate you. ❤️ Hal

Hi! Welcome to “A Body of Work.” It’s the every other Tuesday space here on “Living in a Body” where I dig deep into Hal history and pull out some musical gems. Don’t miss the Soundcloud link below. Thank you! Hal

Thank you for choosing to read here in DARK MODE, the intended optimal experience that I’ve created for you. Enjoy.

Partyin’ Up in Downtown Kent

I finally got around to buying that cassette to USB machine that I’ve been thinking about for so long. I’m glad to say that it works beautifully. When I plugged it into the MacBook Pro, Ableton Live recognized it immediately. Within minutes, I had an .mp3 file of the old classic song by Hal Walker and Geoff Feinberg, “Partyin’ Up in Downtown Kent.”

A little over two months ago, I sort of crash-landed into my current bedroom and I never really got around to moving in properly. Yesterday, Arnel (my full-time caretaker) and I moved some furniture and created a much more livable space. Now, the little couch and the lamp are right next to the new cassette player. I have many hours of listening ahead of me. I’m so glad you’re joining me on this historical journey. I can’t wait to see what’s ahead…

It’s appropriate that we’re starting the “Body of Work” series with “Partyin’ Up in Downtown Kent”. This was the first song that I ever wrote (co-written with Geoff Feinberg) and the first original song that I ever recorded. It happened in the mid to late 80’s at Geoff’s West Main St. apartment in Kent. I’m pretty sure it was this house.

By the mid-80s, Geoff Feinberg had become an accomplished writer and producer using a 4-track recorder. He had played in some legendary Kent, Ohio bands. One called Attic Tragedy was with Sam Ludwig and some of the guys who went on to be in Dink. He also played in a less serious project called Fishing With Elvis with some old friends of mine, Joe Culley and the Zaynor brothers. Geoff was really the master-mind behind our song, but it was the two of us working together that made the magic happen.

If you know anything about my song portfolio, you’ll know that I’ve written some songs that make Ohio sound like a pretty special place. Home in Ohio, My State, Ohio and That’s Kent, to name a few. “Partyin’ Up…” is one more Ohio lovers song for you. Geoff and I wrote the song about the simpler days of meeting friends down at the Kent waterfall and playing quarters over at Pete Coogan’s house. It’s true. “We sang our own song.” And it’s also true. “The years keep comin’ on.” (I’m getting a little emotional right now. See next Saturday’s Substack, “I Love Crying.”)

I’m enjoying hearing the harmonica riffs that I play in this recording. I’ve been playing those same riffs for more than 35 years. If you know anything about harmonica playing, you can definitely tell it’s Hal Walker playing here. Those are my signature riffs.

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Feel free to sing along.

They called me up last night, I said alright.
My blood and love were feeling alright.
Met ‘em down by the waterfall.
We talked and laughed and had ourselves a ball (a good time that is).

Chorus
Here in this town where I grew strong
I had friends that sang their own song.
I remember the nights we spent
Partyin’ up in downtown Kent.

Swing on through to get a six pack
Cause tonight we’re gonna just kick back.
Down by the trestle or back at Pete’s
In the park or out in the street. (chorus)

Well the years keep comin’ on,
But this bond’s still growin’ strong,
Talkin’ about time well spent,
Kickin’ back in our town Kent. (chorus)

Thank you for reading this. Thank you for listening. It means a lot to me. As usual, I’ll be back on Saturday. I’ve got a real uplifting one for you this week. It’s called “I Love Crying.” That’s all I’ll say for now. Have a great Tuesday. I love you. ❤️ Hal