From Black American Sings Bob Dylan:

The Great One:

[Photo Credit: Bixentro]

Cool out.

[Photo Credit: bitchassbidness]

Dope on plastic.

Tribute:

Get your ass a shakin’.

The sky is grey this morning and the heat has relented for the moment.

Happy Monday.

Live and smokin’.

Fresh direct from Soul Sides.

You are welcome.

It’s a Demo…

And while we’re at it:

[Photo Credit: Elliot Erwitt]

Take me…

Can I get an Amen?

Say word.

Rise and Shine:

Seems like summer…

The Good Reverend Welcomes Us to May…

Just hangin’ round on a lazy Sunday…

How about a little soul, sister?

[Photo Credit: Imagens da Margem found via This Isn’t Happiness]

Baseball is back, let us give thanks. The sermon today is from Annie Savoy:

“I believe in the Church of Baseball. I’ve tried all the major religions and most of the minor ones. I’ve worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, trees, mushrooms and Isadora Duncan. I know things. For instance, there are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball. When I heard that I gave Jesus a chance. But it just didn’t work out between us. The Lord laid too much guilt on me. I prefer metaphysics to theology. You see, there’s no guilt in baseball and it’s never boring … which make it like sex. There’s never been a ballplayer slept with me who didn’t have the best year of his career. Making love is like hitting a baseball: you gotta relax and concentrate. Besides I’d never sleep with a player hitting under .250 … not unless he had a lot of RBI’s and was a great glove up the middle.

You see, there’s a certain amount of life wisdom I give these boys. I can expand their minds. Sometimes when I’ve got a ballplayer alone, I’ll just read Emily Dickinson or Walt Whitman to him, and the guys are so sweet, they always stay and listen. ‘Course a guy’ll listen to anything if he thinks it’s foreplay. I make them feel confident and they make me feel safe and pretty. ‘Course, what I give them lasts a lifetime, what they give me lasts 142 games. Sometimes it seems like a bad trade. But bad trades are part of baseball – now who can forget Frank Robinson for Milt Pappas, for God’s sake? It’s a long season and you gotta trust. I’ve tried ’em all, I really have, and the only church that truly feeds the soul is the Church of Baseball.”

A-a-a-men!