Two nights ago I woke at 3:45 AM with a song that wouldn’t go away. Funny, it was one I never heard before. I decided to get up, go to my studio, spark up the Mac and, with my acoustic, begin to make sense of the melody that was rolling around in my head.

As I wrote recently, I can easily lose a song that comes to me in a dream. This time the tune was so persistent it wouldn’t take “later” for an answer. I remember the same thing happened when I wrote “Garments of Praise.” That song came to me when I was going through an emotionally tough time. I sang the lyric and melody in my mind as I pondered Isaiah 61:3. It was so comforting in that even as I was feeling lousy, by focusing on God’s view of my situation, I could actually feel hope and relief.

The same thing happened the other night. I was dreaming about being in a worship service at our church. This time I wasn’t leading worship but was in the congregation. I was imagining that we were gathered at the altar, waiting for the Spirit of the Lord to fall. Actually, it was similar to the Biblical scene from Isaiah 6 where the prophet saw the Lord high and lifted up, the train of His robe filling the temple. The phrase “saints and angels singing together” came to my mind. That was it! I had a song.

Again, it doesn’t happen as often as I would like, but I’ll take the early-morning interruption of sleep to jot down this inspiration from heaven.

I am a huge fan of Neil Young. I don’t particularly like it when he complains about the US, yet continues to live here as a Canadian citizen. But when it comes to his music, he’s up there on my favorites list.

I was introduced to Neil’s unique music when my older brother, Rob, brought home both of the albums “Harvest,” and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young’s “Deja Vu.” The song “A Man Needs a Maid,” from the 1972 “Harvest” record, floored me, even as a young teen. Of course, “Heart of Gold” took both the nation and me by storm with this, his only #1 hit song. My musical life was changed during those moments listening to this great artist.

In 2003, Rolling Stone Magazine listed “Harvest” as one of the 500 Greatest Albums of All time at #78. In 2004, Rolling Stone magazine selected “Heart of Gold” as one of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time, stating:

“Harvest yielded Young’s only Number One hit, ‘Heart of Gold,’ and helped set the stage for the Seventies soft-rock explosion — both James Taylor and Linda Ronstadt sing on the album. Along with Young, they were in Nashville to appear on Johnny Cash’s variety show the week that Harvest was cut with an odd group of accomplished session players that included bassist Tim Drummond, who had played with James Brown. The sound was Americana — steel guitar, slide guitar, banjo — stripped down and rebuilt with every jagged edge exposed. The standout tracks include ‘Old Man’ and ‘The Needle and the Damage Done.'”

When some first heard the group America, and it’s mega-hit “A Horse With No Name,” they thought it was a Neil Young recording. Young’s influence, going back to his previous group, the Buffalo Springfield, along with other groups like the Byrds, the Dillards and singer Linda Ronstadt, had unmistakeably contributed to the birth of new groups like America and the Eagles. This fresh take on American roots music began as a ripple, then a wave, and rose to tsunami strength known as the Southern California Sound. It was an amalgam of bluegrass, country, folk, gospel, rock, and a hefty dose of vocal harmony and instrumental prowess . The new sonic hybrid captivated radio airwaves through to the end of the decade when punk and New Wave began to take the top spots on the Billboard charts. Neil Young was at the center of it all from the beginning, and continues to release great music today.

I saw an uncanny Neil Young impression artfully done by Jimmy Fallon the other day. It was dead-on! In it, Jimmy nails the essence of Neils style while singing the song made famous on American Idol, “Pants On the Ground.” Neil may be an acquired taste for some, but to me, a child of the 60’s and 70’s, he is a genius.

I broke down and did it. I succumbed to the iPad G.A.S. attack (Gadget Acquisition Syndrome). I covet those that my friends have purchased and I finally found the right excuse(s) to acquire my own: tax write-off, Christmas, 25th wedding anniversary, my great-grandmother’s birthday…

As many already know, I am the guy who gets the new gadget as soon as it comes out. Sometimes I have made mistakes like in the case of the ill-fated HD disc player that was obliterated by the Blu-ray a few years ago. I am now the proud owner of an HD boat anchor. Also, Apple’s hand-held Newton comes to mind. I bought one of those several years ago and it became a door stop after it failed to catch on with the masses. Even as I strive to keep up with ever-evolving technology, new stuff gets released that makes what I bought yesterday seem as sophisticated as a button on a string.

It’s a sickness. I love to surround myself with cool things replete with buttons, touch screens, WiFi, email, Twitter, Facebook, etc. There is probably a saturation point, but I obviously haven’t found it yet. Just yesterday my Droid died for no reason. I fiddled around with it and then, suddenly, the screen filled with a great-big, scary, red exclamation point. I went into panic mode and rushed to my neighborhood Verizon store. The guy, who seemed to be about 12 years old, greeted me, snatched the phone from my sweaty palm, did a quick blur of what seemed to be ninja-type moves, and handed me the phone back. At that point I realized my dependence on gadgets had moved past a “mild sickness” into the “insane” realm. I put too much trust in these plastic wonder boxes to bring me happiness.

I know that my gadget insanity will need to be dealt with, but not before I order my iPad. I hear there are great apps available to help neurotic gadget freaks like me.

North, south, east and west–it’s confusing to try and divide the US into such distinct sections these days. But when speaking of American culture, we are forced to do it. When relocating to the south, after growing up in southern California, there was much to learn and plenty of adjustments to make. Southern Californians are, by nature, rebellious. Not in an overt manner, it’s just that our forefathers who moved west were leaving the east for a reason. Some were looking to make a better life for their families–a life to be carved out of the wilderness, where wealth wasn’t required as much as a strong back, courage and tenacity. The statement, “That’s the way we’ve always done it…,” can only hold people back for so long. Some folks just wanted to re-invent their lives. So when opportunity showed up, our brave, rebellious predecessors took the chance and bolted through the open door of opportunity.

It’s not that everyone in California is aware or even remotely connected to the adventurous motivations of their ancestors. Most of the time we perpetuate the culture we’ve been handed only to pass it down without figuring out it’s origin. One such cultural difference between east and west is how people respond to their elders here in Tennessee. It’s appropriate to say, as a show of respect, “Mr. Jamie,” rather than calling me by my first name alone. In the case of a new acquaintance, it is appropriate to say, “Mr. Harvill.” When westerners tell a southern kid to drop the “yes sir, no sir,” the child will usually answer, “Yes sir!” So don’t even try to correct them–it’s in their genes. It is an indelible part of the southern fabric.

As a native Californian I can say that we are ego-centric. Because so much cultural change has come out of Hollywood like movies, music and television, it’s mistakenly easy to think that the US takes it’s marching orders from us. When I visit California, my family always asks me how it is living in the south…kind of in a precious manner, head tilted to show curiosity, with a little dose of, “bless their hearts!” California can sometimes come off as the center of the universe and the rest of the world resents it! I know it’s not done on purpose, but it comes across that way sometimes.

Since I am an adopted southern son, I will poke fun at one of the south’s cultural idiosyncrasies. If a southerner ever says to you, “Y’all come back,” don’t show up next week, because they probably forgot, as they didn’t really mean it to begin with–it’s just an expression.

The truth is, we make our home where our heart is. My heart is in Tennessee. Y’all come and see us…just kidding!

It rained last night–probably the first time our soil has seen significant moisture in two months. Our lawn has taken a serious hit this summer. We made the decision to prepare the lawn for seeding in the fall by doing severe weed killing and fertilizing from the beginning of spring until now. The only thing that we’ve gleaned up to this point is a desert in the front yard. The poor lawn looks like a guy losing his hair. The only difference is that a lawn can’t do a comb-over. There are spots in our front yard that look so pitiful, I’ve almost given up hope.

A buddy of mine who owns a landscaping business said to call him in October and he’ll come over and make an estimate on aerating and seeding the lawn. He assured me that in the process the seeds will stay in the ground via a device called the super-seeder. It sounds dangerous…that’s why I want to watch from the sidelines when he pulls that sucker off his trailer. He can’t promise me anything, but if all goes as planned, and I do my job as the lawn daddy this winter, I just might be playing golf on the new turf by early summer (high hopes!).

I have made efforts in my personal and professional life over several months where, like the lawn, I hope to see a harvest from all the effort expended. My pesky flesh struggles with delayed gratification. I’m smart enough not to side with my inner child, but rather to take the adult route and wait for the harvest, knowing that good things come to those who are somewhat patient. I can get fidgety in the process, but I know that if I prepare the “soil,” plant the “seed,” and nurture it with prayer, I’ll enjoy a bountiful harvest that only God can bring.