Common Ground

Watching events unfold across this beautiful country, I struggled to find something that maybe everyone may have in common, or could agree that is good for all. Impossible task you say? A week ago I would have agreed with you, then it hit me.

Regardless of race, color, religion, socioeconomic status, political affiliation, there is something. It does not matter where you are from, what you do, what you did, or will do, there is something. Something so available, something so simple and infectious it cannot be stopped.

Music. A melody of a guitar, African drum, didgeridoo, Erhu, it does not matter. Music is in all of us. A raw form of expression, emotion, and piece of soul that is shared to the world. A universal language that needs no words, yet everyone can hear and even understand.

Adding the written word to music makes it even more powerful. Adding a political platform because of a successful music career is exploiting music as a whole. A person does not even need to understand the language to get even a small understanding of what a musician is trying to convey. Music at some point, has had nearly everyone stop and say, “This is my jam” or can simply associate with even the simplest song. A parent’s lullaby to a baby or a ripping hair metal power ballad, they go beyond just words, they grab you and hold on for just a short time.

The Blues told detailed stories of the deep south and was the foundation of so many other genres of music. Opera was derived from storytelling of Greek Mythology. Country Music started with fiddle players from the Southern Appalachian Mountains who told their stories in the common language of music.

Is this a cure, nope. Is a start, maybe. Is music an important part of every culture, I most definitely believe that. Humans tend to associate with music of theirs and other cultures, and that is a beautiful thing.

My point is this: We live in the greatest country in the world, and if you do not care for it, the world is a large place,  I encourage you to go explore it and find your utopia. And if you do, I guarantee music helped shape wherever it is you land.

I too associate with a demographic, but it is quite different that some of the craziness that we see on television and news outlets. You see, my demographic has is color blind. My demographic relies on the strength of different opinions. My demographic is a brother and sisterhood that stands together in the face of adversity. My demographic is that I am an American. As an American, music, specifically the National Anthem represents my brothers and sisters. More importantly our National Anthem is a reminder why we have the rights to protest peacefully, own a business, go to school, speak out. It also reminds of the cost of these opportunities and freedoms. Changing something that represents Americans is nothing more that encouraging division. We all have rights, and our rights are going to infringe on each other’s from time to time. It happens. I will not always agree with you, but that does not mean we cannot have a beer. That difference, that conversation, that is what makes America great. We must learn from our past, no human can change then, only now. If it takes something as beautiful as music to have people actually listen, count me in.

Thank you to the musicians I know for not only playing, but creating some of the best music out there. Alyssa Ruffin, Blind Joe, Josh Frank, Josh Kehr, TACOCAT, Black Light Nightmare, Corndog Kings. Take a listen to what these very different individuals have to say through their music, maybe we can all learn something.

Rock on!

DTH

 

Positive isn’t Always the News

I have noticed something lately, and it’s not a negative thing and definitely deserves attention. During these strange times, it’s obvious how negative stories can dominate headlines, because apparently that is the news. Yet right in front of all of us are real acts of kindness, heart, and compassion.

I am seeing true American ingenuity. For example, several of our fitness experts and gym owners like Dion SgroMariah Prussia, and April Imholte are providing online workouts for people to do in their homes. I am seeing parents teaching their children about cooking, conserving resources, and using technology to teach their children who are currently at home due to this situation. People like Rozalyn Howery taking her children on virtual tours of many places in the world through the internet and reading books.

Our small businesses, like restaurants are offering carryout services. These Americans are still there, still serving our communities.

Even social clubs are encouraging online groups to help maintain some socialization. It’s different, but allows some level of interaction and a breath of normal.

American resilience and ingenuity has always prevailed, and always will. We can take a lesson from those like Teresa Terry who understand the gravity of these times, but know how to find the best in not only the situation, but their fellow Americans, encouraging people to remember compassion.

People like Dave Jopp who encourage music and keep people entertained through radio.

People like Sandy Zok who offer their expertise to those who may need some type of social service.

People like Josh Kehr, who continues to play excellent music and offers help to those who may need deliveries or anything else.

These are just a small sample of the positive things happening during this time.

In the end, this virus, like any other virus or crisis, does not discriminate against your skin color, past, present, ethnicity, political affiliation, or sexual orientation. In the end, we will prevail as we always have. In the end, we are all still human. Be kind and compassionate to those most vulnerable in our society.

Reach out should you need help, it is out there. Support your local small businesses, neighbors, and friends. Thank you for being a great American.

Listen to My Radio Interview

Hi Everyone!

In case you missed it, feel free to click the link below to listen to my radio interview on the Heroes of the Heartland Radio program from this morning!  Thank you all so much for the continued support for this project! I used to say it meant the world to me, and it does, but now I am starting to see that there is a bigger picture.  Thank you for all the phone calls, texts, and emails. Keep them coming!

Heroes of the Heartland: Dan Hudson | INFORUM

Poetry “Every Cloud”

                             Every Cloud

 

From a high above cloud God looked down,

At a farm below, and the white snow on the ground.

 

He saw his children who live in this place,

Had committed themselves to his word and grace.

 

Through good times and bad, God saw and knew,

This family tested, proving that they are honest and true.

 

When storms didn’t seem to end, and life was filled with doubt,

God didn’t leave, he was with them throughout.

 

The clouds can get heavy and cover the sun’s light,

Take comfort in knowing the clouds are his, and do not block his sight.

 

With a smile on his face, God listens, hearing each prayer,

Every moment seen, every cloud, God’s chair.

 

                                                                                D.T. Hudson 2018

Farming is a tough business.  Where I come from, we rely on honesty, hard work, and faith.  You have little control over things such as the weather, market prices, disease, or other factors.  You just have to do your best and hope that it is enough. 

Even when those around us tend to take the path of lying, cheating, and stealing, it is important to remember that the path chosen is the one you own.  You are not accountable to me.  A wise person once said, “What cometh around, goeseth around”, or something like that.  

It is easy to give up, cave in, or just quit when things seem like they are impossible.  Whether it be a financial hardship, loss of a loved one, health issue, or just simply being wronged by another, it really is not your fight. Let the arrogance of another be their downfall as the path they chose leads nowhere but to darkness. 

Whether you believe in God, Karma, or another higher power is not for me to judge.  I think we can all agree that most things happen for a reason. We may not always like the situation, but typically we learn from it, and it works out for the best.  Let your higher power take care of these things.  Rock on people, rock on!

P.S.  How cool are drone photos? Thank goodness no one decided to be close to nature and take an outdoor bathroom break!

The Interview

 


The Interview

You don’t think I know you , but  have done my homework,

Learning the details of your life, not bothered by your smirk.

 

I see how this will go, you think you are smarter than I am,

You will tell me an unbelievable story, I will pretend to believe, but don’t really give a damn.

 

You are not the first, and certainly will not be the last,

Hundreds just like you , through the front door they have passed.

 

I am going to sit here with friendly smile and an ear to lend,

I promise you when this is over, you will break and not bend.

 

I come to work and listen to lies every day, people trying to remember what they said,

You lecture me about the law, professing any evidence, there is not a shred.

 

I sit quietly and listen, as we play this failing game,

Pointing your finger at everyone else, yet we both know you are to blame.

 

Like actor in a play, where there is a beginning, middle, and end,

Words like a ballet dance off your tongue, as I pretend to be your friend.

If you really knew what I was thinking, watching you pick imaginary lint with your  finger nail,

You would be sitting in horror, knowing you are clearly going to jail.

 

Now your story is over, and it is my turn to play,

I’ve watched your nervous ticks, heard every word you did not say.

 

I think what you did is disgusting, but now the table is set,

I squeeze your story like a sponge, removing the water that made it wet.

 

My own prejudice of you remains locked away in my own mind,

Make no mistake, I know everything that happened and about your kind.

 

There is a system in place of which I swore and oath,

There are rules that I must follow, rules known to us both.

 

Shut your mouth and listen, I know exactly what you did,

An adult like you should never take advantage of anyone, elder or kid.

 

In my job I have seen horrible pictures, many times forced to watch a horrific tape,

Your lies have caught up with you, now there is no escape.

 

Don’t try to interrupt me, it will do you no good,

Look me in the eyes, these words need to be understood.

 

I will do everything allowed to make sure you never hurt another,

The time for truth or denial is upon you, the choice is one or the other.

 

Telling you I know what happened, your head will hang down,

That smirk you wore so proudly, now quickly becomes a frown.

 

You will start to feel numb, because you know your future is clear,

The confidence you had at the beginning, leaves you in a hot tear.

 

Confessing to every horrible act committed, almost in disbelief,

You gasp for air as you inhale, exhaling the truth with a sigh of relief.

 

I don’t know if there is good left inside you, for me there is no grudge,

Guilt consumed your thoughts, save your apology for the victims, child, elder, and the judge

 

The acts committed are heinous, yet so simple to define,

The path you walk now is dark, but mine will always be a thin blue line.

 

                                                                                             

This is my second poem in my LEOETRY series. LEOETRY stands for Law Enforcement Poetry. It may not be your thing, but for me, I like to tell stories through this method for awareness and education.  I will not include anything dealing with training, tactics, or other methods used by Law Enforcement.

The Interview is a poem that tells a vague story about the interview of a suspect.  There are many things that go into an interview, but much like a keen-eyed parent confronting a child, the words that are not spoken often tell the truth.  The body resists stress and untruthfulness.

I have had the opportunity to conduct several interviews of suspects, victims, and witnesses.  Some cases unspeakable, others simple property crimes.  The fact is, each interview is as different.

Thank you all for your service, and please stay safe. Please enjoy “The Interview”.

Poetry “A Distance Hug from a Mother”

 

A Distant Hug from a Mother

With great thought and care it was carefully made,

A gift for me to be used, but also to be displayed.

Holding stars and stripes in each perfect square,

Also with old planes that long ago, flew in the air.

Each stitch a memory, each pattern a short story,

Red, white, and blue colors, that resemble Old Glory.

It is here not just for me, built of love and to share,

You can find it on the sofa, sometimes on the back of a chair.

Cloth and thread mended together, beautiful yet more than just decor,

It tells tell part of my story, good, bad,  and so much more.

Tough days they can come, full of anger and guilt,

Like a distant hug from mother, I surround myself with her homemade quilt.


I wish I had the talent and patience to make a quilt.  A quilt, to me, encompasses so many things.  The time, creativity, patience, and effort that goes into its construction is truly overwhelming.  I was fortunate to receive this quilt.  It is more of a fight around our house of who gets to wrap themselves up in the detailed work of art.

Like a tapestry or priceless painting, I look at this quilt everyday.  I am grateful for my life, family, and those around me.

Thank you for taking a look at a short poem that means a lot to me.

I have the dictated words below as they are hard to read on the photograph.  Thank you for reading “A Distance Hug from a Mother”.

Poetry “God’s Farmer”

I am not what would be defined as a religious type person, however faced with adversity and the curve balls in life, I find it amazing that we call out to God. Whether it be in a moment of terror or ecstasy, we tend to start our sentences with “Oh God”.

Growing up on a small farm in the middle of really nowhere, I found myself searching for somewhere.  I saw and felt the tribulations and trials of trying to make a living on a small farm.  The weather, commodity prices, and other factors threatened our very existence.

This poem is about just that.  Calling to God when you are at the end of path, not realizing there is a door open, waiting for you to walk through it.

Thank you for taking a look at God and His Farmer.

God's Farmer

Poetry “Fires in Life”

Fires in Life

Fires in life will rage, destroying much in their path,

Scorched souls and destruction in the aftermath.

Attacking you from the front with no remorse,

The intentions are known  and with blatant discourse.

It seems too much, too fast, too real,

Picking up what is left of which one must deal.

What was once beauty was erased in a scorching flash,

Consumed by this fire, it is left to ash.

Life has left this place, nothing left to repair,

The spirit is seeming vacant, the ground cold and bare.

But this fire could not consume the soul or resolve,

Life concurs tragedy and begins to evolve.

Fires burn hot, consuming all prey and in time go out,

Erasing what it created, hopelessness and doubt.

Spring rains and warm summer, the seasons they jump,

The spirit of life finds a way to start over, out of a burnt stump.


So many people, no matter where you are from, have struggles that they have to face head on.  These struggles are a lot like a fire.  They sweep in quickly, destroy things in their path, the burn out.  I have had this happen, and I certain it will happen again.  The thing to remember is that a fire is temporary.  Whether we like it or not, the spirit of life will always prevail. That is why I wrote this poem, Fires in Life.

As I stared at this photo, the words just seemed to come to me. I remember snapping it a couple of years ago.

Take care of yourself, and let your spirit guide you. Thank you for taking a look!

LEOetry “Out The Door”

Out the Door

 

The dispatch phone rang when you called for help today,

You needed us there, but didn’t have much to say.

 

You called because you knew it was time,

The journey up a difficult ladder you have started to climb.

 

You had enough, and called for the help of a stranger,

            To protect yourself from anymore danger.

 

We have never met, but many times I have seen the same pain,

            Your tears run down that blackened eye like tiny drops of rain.

 

You have tried to leave before, but were promised it would never happen again,

            Praying to God that it would be true, with a sincere amen.

 

I have a lot of questions that will be hard for you to answer,

            About the hell you have been living, growing like cancer.

 

I received this call from others so many times before,

            So many like you praying to walk out that door.

 

I am listening to every single word that you say,

            Hoping that this will be your liberating day.

 

I want you to know that what happened fills me with rage,

That I can not show, keeping it in my cage.

 

Please understand there is much more I wish I could do,

            I will not say this, because it will not help you.

  

I promise I will place my piece perfectly in this chain,

            I wish, but cannot, take away your pain.

 

Be strong, be wise, and leave, you have committed no sin,

            The room becomes silent, I could hear the drop of a pin.

 

I could see that your lifetime was running through your head,

            Taking in our words, and thinking of what had been said.

 

Thank you for listening, can I give you a ride,

            That is when I saw something in you stir inside.

                                   

Your eyes meet mine, as you pick your bag from the floor,

            Turning with a smile, as you finally walked out the door.

 


As a former patrol officer, domestic violence was all too common.  The victims extended to children. Every now and then there was a victory in that darkness.  I am not an expert on this topic, and my only wish is that I had a magic wand to erase these terrible situations, but I do not, but I have a keyboard and a blog. 

This is what drove this poem.  Thank you for taking a look.

 

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