BLIND JUSTICE

An Original Tune (click!)

I found myself one morning

 In a court of law and land

Upon that ‘ol worn bible

Did I place there my right hand

I cannot lie I’ll tell the truth

Cause I’ve got no alibi

I’m guilty as the night is long

And now I’ll tell you why 

I woke up without my baby

Oh my heart was filled with dread

He left earlier that morning

Snuck right up out of my bed

He took his moving trunk  away with him

Left nothing but a note

So I set back down and braced myself

And this is what he wrote 

You know I love you baby

But I just got to go

I got to catch the train that’s leaving

I am not your one man show

I been all around this great big world

And I learned a thing or two

And the one thing that I know is this

To mine own self be true

Don’t think too badly of me

I sure meant you no harm

But I threw that letter to the floor

I’d fallen victim to his charm

His promises His poetry

His late night ne’er do well

But I ain’t never had such reverie

He was magic with a spell 

Now I knew for sure I’m not the first

He used so worldly wise

In every state and corner town

You can hear their broken cries  

So I took the matter in my own hand

And raced him to the tracks

And I know for sure there is no doubt

He won’t be coming back 

The judge looked down upon me

The verdict had come in

You’re honor she is innocent

This was no crime or sin

I knew this man and so did I

Each juror said in turn

 

Those cries you hear belong to us

His punishment he earned

So let this be a cautious tale

For those doing someone wrong

For it may not be the law you break

But you’ll pay before too long

There are rules that still apply

For those who steal by night

The fate you seal may be your own

Blind Justice sees it right

Blind Justice sees it right

Blind Justice sees it right

 

 

 



Time Flies!

It is December. How TWISTED is that!?!
(Live link to new music in the blue above!)

 

There are complete gaps in my memory of the days that have gone by simply because of the speed with which the year is flying past.  Yet, I can remember eating a bowl of buttery Olive Oil gelato while reading a New York Times article on Summer Fashion.  That was July 4^th.  

 

Or pushing 12 bags of luggage from 21^st Street to 22^nd Street, dropping my glove and praying no one would hand me a dollar thinking I was homeless, because I sure looked like it wrapped in several coats to keep from the labor of actually carrying them. That was last January. Finding the apartment in February and wandering aimlessly around the Village whose streets I now know as my own neighborhood.

 

Or sometime in July playing a host of decorated pianos in a midtown warehouse which the good people of the project Sing for Hope allowed me to play.  The little memory chip recording of the afternoon is still sitting on a shelf waiting for a compatible program to be downloaded. 

 

Or spending a luxurious weekend with my sisters when we stood at Eataly’s counter eating wonderful cheeses and Italian cured meats, dinner at ABCCocina  where we ate short rib tacos and kale, mushroom tacos.  Then on Saturday standing in line for the latest rage of Umami Burgers, then a quick stop at the Corner Bistro

 before later that Saturday evening to have an absolutely perfect restaurant experience from beginning to end at Union Square Café.  Besides fish and steak for the entree's we ate indescribable polenta with truffle oil walnuts and mascarpone, stuffed squash blossoms and totally enjoyed a stunning bottle of Burgundy. The next day we had  a lovely garden brunch at Palma while drinking a delicate La vie en rose cocktail, took a kitschy but memorable boat trip around Manhattan, enjoyed summer fruit at Morandi, and finally had a perfect farewell Mexican lunch on Monday at the now vanished Mesa Grill. Blues at Terra, Jazz at 55 Bar. The weekend is clear in my mind I just don’t know what weekend it was.   I could look it up, of course, but it was sometime in August or September.  The weather was perfectly warm and clear and the company was clearly perfect.  The girls, including my nieces, have since been back and in fact just left after a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend.  Thanksgiving is already in the past!

 

I've even worked here!  For a short stint I worked at Met Opera in the call center asking opera fans to support the Met.  I met great people there and experienced my first opera, a risqué Rigoletto in a honey comb of a theatre at Lincoln Center.  A quick aside:  I should've realized my days were numbered at Met Opera when on the first day of training the big boss walks into the room to say hello to the new hires and give us an overview of the grandeur which is Met Opera.  It is justifiably world famous.  Well, anyway, he sits down and the first words out of his mouth are "Hello, I am ... Please tell me who you are even though I am warning you, I will never remember  any of your names.  Even if I walk past you in the hall everyday I won't remember your name.  But go ahead, let's go around the table introduce yourself anyway."  So Lily said, "Hello, I'm Lily..."  Jack said, "Hello, I'm Jack..." And I said, "Hello, I'm Lucy McGillicuddy..."  No one got it.  Even the big boss.  I suppose I should've been more respectful but I thought they would get it and laugh and therefore remember my name.  But I think it just put me in his sights to get rid of me on the 89th day before the 90th when full benefits hit. 

 

I write professionally!  There are a couple blogs that I ghost write for, thank you Carol Robinson, and I have also been fortunate to write for WiseTribe, which is the brain child of a fellow New Smyrnan/New Yorker, Jacqueline Botting. 

After many trips to the incredible museums I have stood for the first time in front of Picasso’s 3Musicians, Van Gogh’s Irises, and Monet’s Water Lilies which fill an entire room at MoMA.  Em and I experienced The Warhol exhibit at The Met and I was amazed by the rattan sculpture  of the Cambodian artist Sopheap Chip, an amazing feat. I now know more about the architecture and art of Le Corbusier than I knew possible because his entire body of work and belongings took up the top floor at MoMA.  Em, Mary Katherine and I stood under a blazing sun while waiting to get into the Rain Room, a much heralded and mind boggling art piece, again at MoMA. 

I experienced the Civil War art exhibit at the Met with Mark out of which came one of my best songs.  I will share that one day. 

I made a trip to Florida to say goodbye to our Mother. 

Emily came back to New York after a summer away.

I experienced 9/11 in this city and could only peel away a corner of the painful experience that we all shared, but not like here. 

I’ve met up with friends who have come up to experience the city and gave me a call to join them. Thank you Linda! and Mary Alice and Doug and Danny! 

 

I've eaten the best wonton soup I've ever had and I am a complete nut for Borscht!

There was a very muddy week when several cousins and friends of Emily stayed here for a Tropical Storm whipped Governor’s Ball music festival.  Last May already! I fallen in love with Governor's Island, an island respite only a ferry ride's throw from Manhattan! Em and I went back in time there  at a Nineteenth century French Carnival in September. 

New friends made, music sung, apartment made into a home, and the feeling of becoming a new local, part of the scene of the city.  I absolutely love living here.  It is home. I have experienced all 4 Seasons here now.  Central Park in the Fall is my favorite. 

 

No, I think it's Spring. 

 

I started this chronicle Blonde in Big Town last March and it is just shy of 75 views before it has been seen 4000 times!  The statistics show that it has audiences in Russia, Germany, the Ukraine, Iceland, Venezuela, Serbia, France, Canada, Greece and The Netherlands!  I don’t know how you find it but thank you for coming!

 

If you have an Instagram account check out my photos @klclancy   I twitter too!  Go figure!  @IamKarenClancy (I do realize this is shameless self-promotion!)

 

To entice the push to 4000 views I have recorded one of my all-time favorites, Twisted, written and performed by Annie Ross of Lambert, Hendricks and Ross and also sung by Joni Mitchell.  Now it’s my turn! It’s me on the piano in my 3^rd Street Kitchen.   

Thanks for coming and pull up a chair!

Karen