I should probably not trumpet so triumphantly and assuredly the death or hiatus of any given thing, especially as it pertains to this blog. I’d decided to give Support Friends Friday a rest for a bit—and I did, for two weeks!—because I was running out of friends to support. At least, I was running low on new friend-generated content to champion.
We’re back for another Sunday of Ingramania, the musical sensation that is sweeping the nation (or, at least, the half-dozen people that read this blog on Sundays). Here are the next three juicy posts about the incomparable Frederick Ingram:
It’s definitely not Bandcamp Friday, but it is the first Friday of the month during the slowest blogging time of the year and the start of a major holiday weekend, so why not hard sell my various products and services?
It’s a TPP total liquidation sale! Everything in stock must go!
MAGAWeek2022 starts on Monday, the Fourth of July! It’s a week of posts celebrating the people, places, things, events, and ideas that made America great! For just $1 a month, you get access to every post over at my SubscribeStar Page—plus posts every Saturday year-round!
For a limited time, all of my releases on Bandcamp are $1 each—including Contest Winner EP! The full discography is available for $6.50—35% off. That’s on top of the $1 per release sale. The full discography usually retails for around $26.48, so that’s a total savings of around 74.5%!
A couple of weekends ago I visited the mountains of southwestern Virginia to attend a memorial service for my great-aunt, who passed away November 2021 at the age of ninety-three. She was a feisty, fun-loving lady, and the memorial service was a moving celebration of her life. We also ate KFC and barbecue, which is the kind of send-off I want.
So the mountains were on my mind last week when Son of Sonnet reached out to me, asking me what theme I’d like a poem about. Naturally, I asked him to write about the mountains, specifically the sweet smell of clover that serves as a sensory touchstone for my youngest memories. To this day, whenever I smell clover, it takes me to my Mamaw’s house in Flat Gap, Virginia (outside of Pound, Virginia, in Wise County). That scent is synonymous with her and her home.
I did not tell Son of Sonnet—who is now publishing poetry under his real name, Michael Gettinger—about that sensory relationship before he wrote the poem. That makes the eighth and ninth lines all the more poignant and serendipitious.
So I am very pleased to present a very special poem from SoS/Michael Gettinger, “The Mountain”:
As I’ve noted in the past, I’m running low on friends to support. There are still a few bloggers out there that deserve some praise, I’m sure, and I can think of a few that I really enjoy, but who are a bit too spicy to endorse outright (until blogging pays the bills—which is an extremely long way off—even I have to censor myself).
I’m not saying it’s gone forever. I’m just going to give my talented friends more time to churn out excellent work. Supporting Friends Friday has really been beneficial to the blog, especially since honoring Audre Myers with a post on 27 August 2021; that brought over a whole new readership, and has led to more contributions in the comment sections and to the blog itself.
Of course, I could end up changing my mind by next week, so who knows? That said, I thought I’d dedicate this “season finale” edition of Supporting Friends Friday to a publication I’ve come to enjoy and respect over the last year: Backwoods Home Magazine.
“God loves music. He invented it.” Thus begins Bette Cox‘s wonderful piece—aptly titled “God loves music“—about music and its divine origins.
As a lover of music myself, I’ve long believed that the existence of music—that certain frequencies together create consonant harmonies and beautiful textures, that the mere manipulation of sound waves can become a transcendent whole greater than the sum of its physical parts—is proof positive that God Exists. How could something so precise and so beautiful emerge from a chaotic Nothing? Unless we’re including twentieth-century German Expressionism, it couldn’t.
Bette’s piece went up earlier this week on her blog Esther’s Petition, and it is a must-read. She points out the ultimate purpose of music: to glorify God, to worship Christ. She also dives into the endless variety of music, and how a single song could keep a composer occupied for eternity.
The most poignant part of her piece, however, is a “mini-vision,” in which a throng of singers and instrumentalists of every stripe arrive to sing for an “audience of one: Jesus.”
It’s the tenth edition of Lazy Sunday posts dedicated to looking back at Supporting Friends Friday features. I think after this Sunday I’m going to give the SFF retrospectives a break for a bit, as I’ve nearly caught up to the present day with them.
This weekend’s mix is of a more literary and theological bent: