top of page

Met A Man

I met a man who

The last ten years weren't too kind to

Goin' in to vote

Bought a sword from me

A million years ago at Wildwood He could play a song note for note

I met a man

Met a girl there too Who'd given a kidney to her loved son But he didn't have much time left I hugged her and said It ain't the time that remains

But the time that has been spent

I met a man

I met a man who Played piano and who Did the things piano players do Teaching on the internet Church and choir and all The weddings he could get

I met a man

I met a man I almost didn't recognize But for his blue and starry eyes They found a blockage With ultrasound It's still in there and he's still around

I met a man I met a man From Grampian Spoke of things he couldn't stand

Chemtrails and 5 G The kill shot in the vaccine He asked if those things bothered me I met a man I met a man Who was standing out Ruddy face and full of doubt Came back to Where he was from

Lookit what this life's become I met a man I met a man I met a man Commentary on Met A Man: When I write like this, I am generally thinking of a song for my band, StoneMan, which, if you click the big picture above will take you to our page full of links so you can listen to the record. (And thanks if you do. We're finishing record #2 now and will be doing another in May.) But I really felt a need to write about what I was doing that inspired this fit of writing. I was tabling on election day for a group called Fair Districts Pa. And it turns out they assigned me to the place I had grown up. Returning on election day to the biggest precinct in Lawrence Township, I had mixed feelings. What I found though was long forgotten faces and people and stories and love. It is a joy to find someone you knew once and rediscover they are still good to go. The moment when you are talking to someone and you suddenly recognize them after you hadn't seen them in 40 years is purely good. It lifts your heart. People in our country are losing community, I think. We NEED to re-engage in our community. This is why we feel hopeless sometimes. When I went to Mexico, every town has a beautiful square or "el centro" and at 7 or 8 p.m. everyone comes out and the community mixes. Clearfield does not have an El Centro. Neither Philipsburg. The center of the town should be a beautiful park where people linger and stay and talk to one another in person. It should be a staple in the community. Without staples like that, the pages of your community begin to fall out and things become cold. We are missing civics in our culture. So, election day, for me, was this time to talk to people rather than correspond with them. I politically disagree with most of the people in my community, I think. That doesn't make them, or me, less beautiful. Working on elections or politics is a civic thing... a town square... and it is important for people to disagree in a loving way. The core things draw us together: that we have a system we can work on, even oppose one another on, and still recognize the value of the man you met. I had more thoughtful conversations on Tuesday than I have in an entire year. This shows me the value of leaving your phone behind and going outside and sometimes stopping and talking to and caring about someone else. Every person up there in the poem is real. I won't tell you their names, but they should recognize themselves. I kind of combined two people into one up there. And I met uniformly lovely people. People I'd lost and found. People I disagreed with but respected and listened to. I will tell you one person's name. The last person is me. I found a lot of myself. I met a lot of myself reflected back at me in the faces of the wonderful people I spoke with. Sometimes you only remember the things you are sad about when you leave a place and somehow forget that everyone who loves you is there too. You never know what you're going to find right outside your door. You just have to unlock it, open it, and walk through it! Until next time, Enjoy!

85 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page