[Things seldom go as my conscious mind plans for them to and trying harder won’t help me. Instead of a deepening “dharma time,” I find myself examining my music background which stretches back to the 1960s and even the late 1950s. Go figure. Or, is this the dharma-of-music in me that I am finding. Suddenly, dharma seems to be everywhere. Perhaps I am just letting go of being so formal and may find myself walking through that door of formality and going outside the box.]

For example, consider the effect on me of the music of Aaron Neville.

I am happy to share with you some wonderful reminisces on Ann Arbor in the 1960s back in the day by my friend Paul Bernstein.

Jim Dulzo is one of Ann Arbor and Detroit’s favorite DJs. Dulzo is also a very skilled writer, and did music reviews for the Ann Arbor Sun, and many other publications.

With an introduction to legendary guitar player Perry Lederman.

Back in the 1960s, as to where I spent the most time, outside of the bars our band played music in, it was

Here is just an interesting bit of music understanding that may be of use, at least in my opinion, yet I doubt it will interest everyone here, so ignore it. It’s about directionality acquired from our history of listening to sounds, in particular music. It has to do with the power of sound vibrations, and the sound in music that penetrates our brain and leaves an impression, and we can start by asking ourselves just what is this thing we call music?

In 1957 freshman student Al Young and Bill McAdoo founded the University of Michigan Folklore Society. Al Young went on to become the Poet Laureate of California.

I would spend many evenings at the Bird of Paradise. It was always dark in there. After all, it’s a jazz club.

How could the repeal of prohibition in 1933 affect the onset of The Sixties in Ann Arbor? It sounds like Chaos Theory, where the flapping of a butterfly wing in Brazil affects the amount of snow that falls in Greenland. But such an effect did occur. And the sad thing is that the scene I am about to describe is hardly remembered. I keep waiting for someone to write about it, but it might have to be me!