Oh the old Khandu was a righteous shmoo
With an eye for the good and the bright
He was known afar for his keen guitar
And his song like a southern night
He had a velvet tone like a night-wind's moan
On the long Mississippi's water
And the way this shmoo could lay down the blues
Would melt Bull Connor's daughter.

Khandu! Khandu! Keep on playin'
Stayin' true
True to you, who can do,
Those things only you khandu!

Warm regards, pal. Me, I love the dappled sun on the patio in a morning, the smell of French Roast, the flavor of a good cigar, the feeling of my best-beloved wife's strong small hand in mine, the sparkle in my daughter's eyes when her love of music wells to the fore, and I truly love the sight of life force asserting itself for freedom, wherever found. I love real communication, when the cards are all on the table and the common truth rears up and sweeps the game, and the light of love in any heart, no matter whose or where it is directed. I love the gracious curves of a well built sloop or ketch lapped with a running sea and a following wind, and the beauty of our gentle womenfolk, god bless 'em all. I love the incredible colors of dawn in Arizona and the tears behind the eyes of a Gauguin maiden. I love lots of things, and I really really love my Martin. By most of all, I think I love my wee lassie Barky and her Mom.

And, boy am I lucky!! What a life, huh?

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