Message from Randy Sparks
October 1, 2016

It isn’t very often that I feel old and meaningless, but if that ever happens, all I have to do is think about Terry Williams and Kenny Rogers, who, over the years, have been two of my most vocal supporters.  Terry said to me, “Do you realize how many lives you changed with your invention of The New Christy Minstrels?  You led the way for so many of us, even performers who were never part of your group as The First Edition was.”  Kenny embarrassed me in front of his band as they were about to perform in concert in Northern California.  “Boys, this is Randy Sparks, and I want you to know that without him, we wouldn’t be here.” 

That's pretty good medicine for an old guy suffering from loss of dignity in a hospital gown, as I was a few days ago.  When I was finally set-free, I came home and received in the mail vintage recordings of The Roadshow Entertainers of Toledo, Ohio.   There in the cover photos were Dr. Ron and Dr. Phil, now dear friends of ours, who just happened to be in the right places at the right times.  Dr. Ron saved my life in 2009, when he forcefully put me through medical tests, which revealed my prostate cancer, advanced stage.  The two were also in the audience at our concert at Lakeside, Ohio in July of 2015, when Pete Henderson, our beloved bass player, collapsed onstage (blood clots in the lungs) in front of a thousand audience members.  They both ran onto the stage, Dr. Ron tending to Pete, and Dr. Phil picking up Pete’s bass to keep the rhythm going.  It doesn’t get any better than that.



I know that some of us old folks suffer from a nagging feeling that we’re unproductive, meaningless and taking-up space.  I have bouts with those charges, and I may be meaningless, but NEVER unproductive.  I still write everyday, and there may be a place for the song that I finished late last night.  

Old White Guys Matter

Old White Guys Matter
Though maligned by negative chatter 
We’re well-behaved  
But our rights have been waived 
We’re expelled from the corporate ladder  

Tell me this now, what could be sadder  
Than an edict against the Mad Hatter? 
To be kept out of sight 
Because he was white  
Or the Hare with his head on a platter   

What’s fair is fair 
And what’s right is right 
No, we’re not marching in protest tonight
What you’ll hear is the usual clatter
Pitter-patter, titter-tatter 
We have no competition 
And no known opposition  
Besides, we’re not that organized

In baseball we judge every batter 
By how many balls he can scatter 
Babe Ruth, Willie Mays 
They both won our praise 
The former no more than the latter

 Old White Guys Matter 
But, no, we’re not what’s the matter 
We spit and drink beer 
But we’re often sincere 
Though fat-cats don’t come any fatter  

Some people’s illusions we shatter 
Don’t tread on the deadly puff adder 
When the limit is reached 
When the line has been breached 
Remember, Old White Guys Matter

Copyright 2016 Cherrybell Music

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