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THE SONGS FROM LONG ROAD

by Byron W. Scott
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 2

Table of Contents

Forward…5

Prologue…7

Part 1

1 Something Good………….8

2 Buffalo River…………….11

3 Comanche………………..14
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 3

4 Portents………………….18

5 Time to Go………………22

6 Legacy…………………..26

7 Sun Father………………29

8 Halfway To Karnak…….31

9 Milvian Bridge…………35

10 Ali Raki-haji……………38

11 Troubadour……………..41

Part 2

1 Tyrants…………………47

2 Freedom……………….54

3 Maize…………………..58

4 Blue Flute……………...63

5 Flipside Chapter 4…….67

6 Flipside Chapter 6…….80

7 Ball Game……………..98

8 Flipside Chapter 2…..102

9 History……………….121

10 Antelope Mesa……….125

11 Vista Bonita………….130
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 4

12 Maria de Agreda……..134

13 Flipside Chapter 17….138

14 Pope……………….....143

15 Liberty Tree………….147

Part 3

1 Between the Lines……151

2 The Right Thing……...155

3 Voyager………………158

4 Lemmings……………162

5 Life…………………...167

6 Legends………………172

7 Silver Shadow………..176

8 Got the Devil In Me….178

9 Good Friends…………182

10 This Desert……………186

11 Wrinkled Old Man……191

12 Bernalillo……….……..194

Epilogue….199
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 5

Forward

And editor once asked me about the title of this book. “The Songs part is self evident,”

she said, “but what exactly is meant by ‘Long Road?’”

The American Indians had a term for this existence of ours. They called it the Road of

Life. I find it to be an apt analogy, for along that road we find unimpeded straight-aways,

twists and turns, bumps, detours, and dead-ends. The term applies not only to the life of

the individual, but to generation after generation. From the dawn of human history, it has

indeed been a Long Road.


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 6

Of course, there is more to it than that.

Mesoamerica stretches from northern Honduras and El Salvador up through Guatemala,

Belize and Mexico and into the four corners area of the United States. Each Indian tribe

will insist that it has developed its own unique culture, but there are certain myths,

legends and beliefs that seemed to span the entire region. One of those myths is the pre-

Columbian belief that a bearded white man once lived with the Indians and then left them

and headed for the East. According to the legend, he would one day return to reunite the

two great peoples; the red man and the white. The Maya called this man Kukulcan; the

Aztecs and Toltecs called him Quetzalcoatl, the “feathered serpent.” The prophesied date

for his return in the Aztec calendar was Ce Acatl, which corresponds to the Christian year

1519, the year that Hernan Cortes appeared off the coast of Mexico. The Spaniards

destroyed nearly everything during the Conquest, and so very little remains of those

legends from the “high cultures”. But thanks to Frank Waters, who wrote The Book of

the Hopi, we have a compelling and comprehensive version of their legend—the Hopi

Pahana.

The prophesied date of Pahana’s return was the same as Quetzalcoatl’s. According to the

myth, if he did not return on that date, it would be hundreds of years more before his

arrival. And that makes a very long road to walk.

The Songs from Long Road is an attempt to incorporate this legend into the historical

perspective.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 7

Prologue

If you happen to meet a mahu along your Road, you should stop and visit for a while.

There’s no telling what you might learn.


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 8

Part 1

Hey guys,

It’s been a long time coming, but I’ve finally finished the Songs from Long Road. I’ve

divided the text into three parts because there are three CD’s. There are also three main

categories to the songs: history, American Indian mythology, and personal subjectivity.

There’s probably a little bit too much of the latter category, but I’ll let you decide about

that.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 9

The best place to start in any book about history is in the present. Why? Because that’s

where the readers are, of course.

I hope you enjoy the lyrics.

Something Good

I’ve been leafing through some books of history

There have been some sad events in our history

Recall the Trail of Tears of the Cherokee

Or down in Selma, Alabama before Martin Luther King

There have been some sad, sad moments in our history

Too many broken treaties, too many lies

Too much aggression to rationalize

Too many broken treaties, too many lies

Too much racism to ever justify


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 10

But hey!

Got something good to say about the USA

Hey! There’s plenty good to say about the USA

I’ve got the freedom to learn

Got the freedom to turn my own page

I’ve got the freedom to fall in love and raise a family

Or to follow my heart, wherever that may lead

And hey! That’s always good to say about the USA

Hey! There’s plenty good to say about the USA

I’ve got the freedom to roam

Got the freedom to be my own man

I’ve got the freedom to launch myself upon this journey

It’s a varied landscape filled with mysteries

The people are friendly if you follow their laws

And take their attitudes with a grain of salt

You’ll find many good people who are going your way

There might be clouds in the sky, but it’s a sunny day

And hey! That’s mighty good to say about the USA

USA
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 11

Western expansion played a major role in the early history of the United States. Circa

1865, Horace Greeley advised “Go West, young man!” And that statement reverberated

throughout this country for almost a hundred and fifty years. Gold had already been

discovered in California, and also in the Black Hills of North Dakota. For westward

expansion, there would be no holding back. No gold would ever be discovered in the

Ozark Mountains, but who knew at the time.

Buffalo River 1886

Ozark Mountains called to me

I heard it in the wind back in Tennessee


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 12

I found a job in the mines here in 1880

Knew there’d be a pot of gold waiting on me

Ozark Mountains, haunting me

It’s been years since they chased out the Cherokee

Now I’ve got a home in the glade and a family

And that pot of gold is still waiting on me

And I’m going up to Boxley when the dogwoods bloom

The river will be rising, going to float my canoe

Some folks think me loco, some think me brave

Past Ponca and Pruitt, going to ride those white waves

Buffalo River calls to me

Got a date in the morning with my family

Take my boy for a swim at the mouth of Rush Creek

Explore the limestone bluffs with the cedar trees

Buffalo River, haunting me

From deep in the mines I hear it call to me

The only pot of gold I’ll ever see

Is my love for these hills and my family


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And I’m going up to Boxley when the dogwoods bloom

The river will be raging, going to float my canoe

Past Hemmed-In-Hollow and Indian Creek

Floating that whitewater is a challenge to me

Going up to Boxley when the dogwoods bloom

The river will be dancing, going to float my canoe

Past Big Bear Cave, through Longbottom Hole

I’ll be rounding Toney Bend, down Clabber Creek shoal

Going up to Boxley when the dogwoods bloom

The river will be rising, going to float my canoe

Past Cow House Eddy, past Leatherwood Creek

Floating that clear water is a pleasure to me


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 14

During the winter of 1874, General Ranald McKenzie and the US Cavalry caught the

Comanche and Kiowa Indians napping in Palo Duro Canyon in the Texas Panhandle. The

ensuing slaughter was not pretty. Needless to say, not everybody on the American

continent was thrilled with the westward expansion of the white man.

Comanche 1874

Whiteface are done fighting each other

Now the bluecoats come in force

They’ve killed our horses, burned our winter stores


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 15

We should have foreseen these acts of war

These northern gales blow fierce and cold

They paralyze these high plains

My people are scattered, hungry and bare

I curse the white demons who put us here

We’ve learned we can never trust their word

They speak with two hearts, truth unheard

This prairie will never be the same

Its’ life is fading, it’s starting to change

They’re killing all the buffalo on the plains

And now they want to move us far away

To Oklahoma and the reservation

But the Clearfork and caprock are my home

Brother coyote speaks to me

He tells me of the death of my family

Eagle spirit mourns with me

I need the plains and the sky

And I need to roam free


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 16

The pueblos and people west on the mesas

Wouldn’t want us there at all

Although they look to be the same as us

They never did come across from the North

They still await Pahana, their white friend

He’s awfully late; he must have lost his way

He left ages ago, will he ever return?

Is there a lesson here that we must learn?

Whiteface are strange in their beliefs

They kill and steal, lie and cheat

They don’t take their Lord very seriously

They don’t believe they’ll have to answer for their deeds

But their medicine is strong, I believe they’ll win

Don’t believe one of them could ever be my friend

These high plains winds come whispering

Oklahoma sounds like death to me


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 17

Bother coyote speaks to me

He tells me of the death of my family

Eagle spirit soars with me

I need the plains and the sky

And I need to roam free


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 18

Today we’ll keep sliding back in time. This song takes place just before the Conquest.

Strange things are happening in Tenochtitlan, the Aztec capital. Moctezuma, the Aztec

Emperor, is becoming worried. The year of Ce Acatl is approaching.

I can’t take full credit for this song. Most of the sentences came from two sources; Great

River and Conquistadors, both written by Paul Horgan. This man could make absolute

poetry out of history. I merely did a little paraphrasing, rearranged a few words and put

them to a melody.

Portents 1517
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 19

Lake Texcoco unexpectedly

Rose up one day and flooded the city

A comet fell to Earth in the middle of the day

It divided into three, spread from west to east

Omens and portents keep happening

They fuel seeds of doubt

They startle the city

Here at Tenochtitlan

Does it augur the end?

A fiery tongue in the night time sky

Would vanish at dawn, but for a year it went on

A fire broke out in the Temple of War

Burned it to the ground, we could not put it out

Serpent Woman roaming the streets at night

An Earth Goddess moaning, I hear her cries of fright

Wailing, “We are about to go, oh my sons

Whither can I lead you, my beloved ones?


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 20

Our fate is approaching, we’re about to go

And I can’t find the door, can’t see to lead you!”

Ambassadors bring me news of white men

“Gods or men?” they can’t answer my question

There are people dying out in the Yucatan

A mysterious disease, they say it spoils the skin

Omens and portents keep happening

They fuel seeds of doubt

They startle the city

Wait for Ce Acatl

Look for Quetzalcoatl

An ash gray crane, a mirror in its head

Was brought before me in my royal palace

Peering into it I saw warriors on “deer”

A prophesy of doom, it heightened my fear

Serpent Woman roaming the streets at night

An Earth Goddess moaning, I hear her cries of fright

Wailing, “We are about to go, oh my sons


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 21

Whither can I lead you, my beloved ones?

Our fate is approaching, we’re about to go

And I can’t find the door, can’t see to lead you!”


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 22

As we go further back in history, we enter the realm of American Indian mythology. You

may have noticed a couple of names in the last two songs; Quetzalcoatl, from Portents,

and Pahana, from Comanche. The myth that a bearded white man would some day return

to set things right and reunite two great peoples was widespread throughout

Mesoamerica. As I have already pointed out, the most dynamic of these myths belong to

the Hopi Indians of NE Arizona. The Hopi possess four stone tablets that they’ve had for

hundreds of years; their Creation Tablets. According to the legend, the corner of one of

those tablets was broken off and given to Pahana, their white friend, so that when he

returned, there would be no mistaking his identity; Pahana will bring this stone piece with

him and the tablet will be made whole. The next few songs depict Pahana beginning his

journey.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 23

Time to Go 1388 BC

Brothers, fare you well

I love you dearly, with

This land and all it is

We’ve journeyed far south

From tropical climes

Climbed mountains of snow, gazed on northern lights

But this desert is fine; we’re all of one mind

And so we’ll gather back here in another time

Brothers, fare you well

I wish you all the best and more

Now you go west while I head east

But I’ll be gone before you reach that shore

Keep good thoughts, bring the rain

Grow your corn, harvest your game

Creator tells me it’s time to go

Old man nods, I think he knows

I’ve been taking my time, been going too slow


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 24

Old man tells me he don’t know why

But if I rest more than twice

Things won’t go right

He says not to linger, to leave today

Say my good-byes and be on my way

Life fire planted like a seed

It grew into us, and now we see

That it’s a wonderful world

You gave us much more than we need

Lord you made it all so beautiful

Will we be able to keep our spirit true?

You gave us color and depth and solidity

I’m going to be hard pressed

To keep from pleasing only me

Brothers, fare you well

Creator tells me it’s time to go

He gives me this stone, sends me alone

And says when I return to this land

To grasp that hand, welcome home

Old man smiles and pats me on my back

He says he’ll remember me when I come back


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 25

I know I’ll remember him when I come back


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 26

Legacy 1387 BC

I came to the purple light, it beckoned me

Back to the Fourth World on awakening

The day is dawning, it’s refreshing me

The Sun is rising, He’s telling me

That there’s one more mountain range

Before the plains

I’m feeling good, I’m on my way again

I’m going to leave this desert far behind

My load’s been lightened

Should be making good time


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 27

Been two days gone from that great river I crossed

The people I’ve met have been

Scattered and lost

Creator said that it would be best

If I stopped a second time to take my rest

Through sand He led me to these hills

I found a spotted earthen jar where I could quench my thirst

Then deep in the canyon I placed my stone

Leaving it there burns deep in my bones

One day one with insight will carry it home

And together with the Keepers make the tablet whole

This world is boundless, broad and deep

But the essence of this life isn’t hidden from me

If I keep my door open

I can see the mysteries

Snatch the magic from both sides

Affect reality

I’ve passed through the purple light, it beckoned me

Back to the Fourth World on awakening


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 28

The day is dawning, it’s refreshing me

The Sun is rising, He’s telling me

That there’s one more mountain range

Before the plains

I’m feeling good, I’m on my way again

Going to leave this desert far behind

My load’s been lightened

Should be making good time


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 29

Sun Father

Father sun your light shines on me

And this good Earth sings and grows

The clear brook laughs and glows

Will the land and sky always

Carry your message to me?

Father Sun your flame leaps in me

You are the sparkle in my eyes

The Spirit that makes me alive

With this gift that you give me


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 30

I travel this road of life

Father Sun will I remember

To keep my door open to you?

To voice my thanks to you?

May this eagles feather

Carry my love to you


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 31

Circa 1365 BC Amenhotep IV became Pharoah of Egypt. Right off the bat he took 1500

years of Egyptian religious beliefs and threw them out the window. He changed his name

to Akenaten, moved the capital from Memphis to a new city he built in the desert at

Amarna, and instituted worship of the sun. By doing so he totally insulted his priests and

everybody else in the Kingdom. He made foreign dignitaries stand in the hot sun until

they collapsed. Why? What would make a man do such a thing?

Oh, that’s right. Our hero, Pahana, was heading that way.

Halfway To Karnak 1365 BC


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 32

Floating up from Memphis on the River Nile

Halfway to Karnack, had to stop for a while

Had the boatmen pull over and dock in the reeds

Held the Guard and went on shore with Nefertiti

Walked half a mile, then turned back towards the West

Saw a lion, a falcon, a golden sun disc

Saw a temple to Aten rise up from the dust

Then was startled by a voice that spoke behind us

Turned straight away and saw a ragged old man

Nefertiti felt weak and collapsed in the sand

We helped her to her feet, to the nearest shade tree

He apologized profusely as he bowed to me

Confusion in my head, could not collect my thoughts

He grabbed my arm and we began to walk

Said it was his nature, he was lagging behind

But we were fated to meet; now he must speak his mind

He said he crossed a great ocean that lies to the West

Over mountain and desert he’d been drawn by his quest

Although his path had altered he kept to his task

To hear the words of the Creator and to do what He asks


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 33

“Amen and Ra and your myriad gods

Are confusing your beliefs, keeping you in a fog

You have it in your powers but change is a risk

Your Father’s in your visions, He’s the golden sun disc”

Floating up to Thebes on the River Nile

Almost to Karnack, we’ll be there in a while

Nefertiti feels ill, she is causing a scene

But my thoughts run heavy; I must speak to my priests

Giza kept calling him, said he had to go

All the lines were converging there, an energy source

He asked me if I knew what the Pyramids were for

I answered they were tombs for my predecessors

“No tombs of death!” he told me with a grin

“But a boost to your life if you’ve kept the knowledge

You have it in your powers; your life is at risk

The answer’s in your visions, it’s the golden sun disc”

Walked half a mile then turned back toward the West

Saw a lion, a falcon, a golden sun disc

Saw a temple to Aten rise up from the dust

Then was startled by a voice that spoke behind us


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 34

“Amen and Ra and your myriad gods

Are confusing your beliefs, keeping you in a fog

You have it in your power but change is a risk

Your Father’s in your visions, He’s the golden sun disc”


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 35

There’s a whole lot of time that elapses between this song and the last. That’s because

there are a lot of songs that never got written. I was going to do one on Moses, in order to

include the religion of Judaism, and of course one on the coming of Christ. I think I’ll

wait for divine intervention to do that one.

Milvian Bridge 312 AD

Mama, hope you’re doing well

Got good news, I’ll be coming home soon

I’m going to build another boat

We’ll hire some help


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 36

Fish the coast down the straits

Through the Dardanelles

Mama, I’ve got a story to tell

I was there with Constantine at the Milvian Bridge

We were gathered up in arms against Maxentius

When there appeared a flaming cross etched in the sky

It was during the day, mama, you know I don’t lie

It was an omen from God

Blazing there in the sky

Mama, I’ve got some more to tell

That night outside the tent of Constantine

I was gazing at the stars, I could not sleep

When there came a shining or a presence

I’ll just say what I mean

There was an Angel talking to Constantine

We carried a cross into battle next day

It was a glorious fight

The tide swept our way

Mama, I’ll be leaving Rome soon

I’m getting tired of toting this sword around


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 37

And Constantine will soon be in Byzantium

Greece will be great again, the Lord’s on our side

Mama, the Lord is beside us

We’re going to be all right

Mama, hope you’re doing well

Got good news, I’ll be coming home soon

I’m going to build another boat

We’ll hire some help

Fish the coast down the straits

Through the Dardanelles


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Between 610 AD and 632 AD Mohammed established the religion of Islam. Within the

next 100 years it had spread across North Africa and into Spain, as well as to other

directions; to Turkey, Persia, and into Pakistan, which was pretty incredible for that span

of time. Although their march northward was stopped at Tours in France in 732, over the

next several hundred years the Muslims established top universities and contributed much

to world culture.

Ali Raki-haji 750 AD

There is no god but God


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 39

And His prophet is Mohammed

Allah’s given me the grace

A way to die for my faith

The sun is sitting low with Viking ships in silhouette

My scimitar is ready, every challenge will be met

Allah is presenting me the road to paradise

Barbaric infidels who come down from the ice

There is no god but God

And Jesus is His prophet

Allah’s given me the grace

A way to fight for my faith

My name is Ali Raki-haji, scribe of history

Events in Damascus are disturbing me

Sunni and Shiite, it’s political

So I’ve joined this merchant fleet sailing back to Seville

There is no god but God

And Moses is His prophet

Allah’s given me the grace

A way to die for my faith


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 40

The Byzantines and Charles Martel at Tours

Their Christian minds are twisted, but they look to God’s words

Mohammed spoke with Allah through Gabriel

He said they’re People of the Book, they deserve our good will

There is no god but God

And His prophet is Abraham

Allah’s given me the grace

A way to fight for my faith

Viking ships are closing in; I can see them eye to eye

They are giving me a glimpse of Paradise

There is terror in their hearts; you can see their fear set in

Yet they keep on coming, I hear the fight begin

There is no god but God

And His prophet is Mohammed

Allah’s given me the grace

A way to die for my faith


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 41

Troubadour 1100 AD

I’ve been a lover and a soldier and a fool of the court

Presently you see me I’m a troubadour

I come lately from the Holy Land; the journey’s been long

Oh, drop me a coin and I’ll sing you my song

Constantinople is where this song begins

Playing strings for the Queen at a private audience

Knew there might be trouble when my tights came to the floor

Though I satisfied her thrice, she kept on wanting more


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 42

Hate to admit it but she soon enough was bored

I was tossed outside the gates, given to a motley horde

They had raped and pillaged all through the Balkan states

They said they’d guarantee me passage ‘cross the Bosporus Straits

Hey down ditty, I’m off on crusade

Going to save the Holy Land from that wicked Muslim race

Hey down ditty, I’m off on crusade

Get your blessings from the Pope, Jerusalem we’ll save

We invaded Asia Minor, fought the Seljuk Turks

We got cut to ribbons, stomped in the dirt

I escaped the massacre by dropping in a well

And now I’m here today as far as you can tell

Constantinople is where I longed to be

Drinking wine with the women in easy luxury

Stealthily I made my way back to the Bosporus Straits

Where I ran into the Franks, I was back on crusade

Strong knights and nobles made up this company

And we conquered Nicaea, won it for the Byzantines


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 43

We marched on Edessa with pomp and pageantry

Soundly ravaged the city, won the spoils of victory

Hey down ditty, we’re off on crusade

We’re mighty grateful to the Pope, there’s a fortune to be made

Hey down ditty, we’re off on crusade

Heed the call of the Pope, Jerusalem we’ll save

When we crossed the Euphrates I noticed a change

Purpose and motive had been rearranged

We cursed the Byzantines; they stabbed us in the back

They made a Latin Christian state of Greek Antioch

That Bishop from Rome, just a motivating ruse

What we gain through malice we always tend to lose

For people of the cross, they sure showed a lot of hate

Seljuk Turks or bloody Franks, they seemed all the same

I stole a camel to make my way back home

But the dumb beast turned south and I crossed the Lebanon

Terrified of Muslims, I quivered to the bone

But the Arabs took me in; they made me feel at home


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 44

Hey down ditty, I’m through with crusade

I don’t believe God would want us all fighting that way

Hey down ditty, I am through with crusade

Just a pilgrim in Jerusalem enjoying my stay

Now I had the time to talk with both Muslims and Jews

And there is something that they said that altered my views

These religions with their schisms, man it had me confused

It’s the same God Christians, Jews and Muslims pray to

Hard to determine the cause of this conflict

Truly inspired by God or religious politics?

Holy Sepulcher, I’m praying to you

Give me the strength and faith I need to see this through

Unholy crusaders were soon outside the gates

And again I found myself in narrow, dire straits

But God answered my prayers; I can’t tell you no lies

It was a miracle of Jesus that I came out alive


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 45

Hey down ditty, I was through with crusade

I saw the bloody Franks come storming through the gates

Hey down ditty, I was through with crusade

By the grace of God I made my escape

Now it’s true that I’m a pauper, I’m just dust in your eyes

But those Holy Crusaders weren’t civilized

They slaughtered the Muslims, they sliced up the Jews

There was blood up to a horse’s knee, I’m telling you

Bad dreams I’m screaming, that’s all I cared to see

So I got me a mule and headed back toward Galilee

Outside Damascus I joined a caravan

And started singing my songs all across the land

Constantinople, a glimmer ‘cross the sea

You are the prettiest sight that I have ever seen

Constantinople, you’re where I’ve longed to be

Singing songs with the ladies in perfect harmony

Hey down ditty, I’m through with crusade

We saved the Holy Land for a dirty, wicked race


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 46

Hey down ditty, I’m through with crusade

We won the Holy Land for the bloody Franks


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 47

Part 2

OK. You knew this was coming. I’ll give you a little break from all this history. Instead,

it’s time to subject you to some personal subjectivity. The thing about history is that one

can look back and see how we got here from there, but everybody seems to see it from a

different perspective so it’s still kind of hard to get agreement on anything.

Some of you may have seen on the late night TV infomercials a particular joker trying to

sell his health books. He talks about the pharmaceutical companies not wanting to make a

product that will cure any of us. After all, if they cure us of our illnesses then we won’t
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 48

be eating their pills anymore and then they won’t get rich off of us. Drug companies love

addiction.

History is the same way. World leaders won’t lead us to the Promised Land because if we

arrived there then we wouldn’t need leaders anymore and they wouldn’t be able to get

rich off all of us. So basically, we’ve got 5000 years of the same stuff happening over and

over again.

Tyrants is from my angry days. In a lot of ways, Western man has never gotten over his

crusader mentality.

Tyrants

with You Don’t Get Rid

and Overkill

I don’t see major differences in ideologies

But there are lots of global leaders talking down at me

Using so many words with so many meanings

Mostly politics, semantics and deniability


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 49

We have capitalism, consumerism

Communism, socialism, monarchy

We have despotism, feudalism

Nazism, fascism, and democracy

There are so many isms I can’t keep them straight

And schisms of those isms, now give me a break

We have nationalism, colonialism

We’ve even had Manifest Destiny

We have imperialism, militarism

And now we’ve got economic hegemony

Yes, the names may change

But the tune’s still the same

They grow a little more subtle

When you see through their game

Those political clowns in their tailored suits

They’ve got the drive to dominate

They think they’re better than you

They’ve found a lot of clever ways

So they can subjugate you

They think they’ve got the right


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 50

To take your rights from you

We’ve got Catholicism, Protestantism

Voo-dooism, animism, atheism

We’ve got Buddhism, Hinduism

Islamism, Zionism

God there ain’t no end

We’ve got monetarism

There are so many isms I can’t keep them straight

And schisms of those isms, now give me a break

Because the words may change

But the tune’s still the same

They become a little more clever

When you see through their game

Those religious jokers in their ritual suits

They’ve got the power of persuasion

They manipulate you

They think they’ve got the gift

They can decipher for you

They think they’re chosen from the rest

And they can preach to you


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 51

But you don’t get rid of slavery

by killing all the Africans

And you don’t get rid of drugs

by shitting on the Mexicans

You don’t get rid of racists

by sucking on dem soda crackers

Don’t get rid of terror

by wasting all the Israelites

You don’t get rid of morons

by burning all these written words

You don’t get rid of war

by nuking all the commies

And you don’t get rid

of Palestinians

No, you don’t get rid

of AmerIndians

Killed the Indian, the buffalo, the bald eagle

Dammed up the rivers, moved the face of the earth

Drained the swamp, fenced the prairie, killed the estuary

The Colorado River don’t drain to the sea


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 52

Got ozone loss and acid rain and toxic waste

Ecological unbalance all over the place

Got deforestation and desertification

Got overwhelming numbers of the human race

And if everyone was selfish like North Americans

There’d be a drain on resources

This good planet couldn’t stand

Imagine every Chinese family with two automobiles

You couldn’t breathe the air nor ‘ford your fossil fuel

And those industrial jokers in their tailored suits

They think they own the world and they can buy and sell you

And they’re ageing their mother to raise their profits

Tearing up Mother Earth to line their pockets

Yes, the words may change

But the tune’s still the same

And they get madder than Hell

When you see through their game

They’re Russian, European and North American

They’ve got the means to destroy you


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 53

Got the button at hand

Yeah, they’ve got us by the balls

They’ve got the button at hand

And there are so many isms I can’t keep them straight

And schisms of those isms, now give me a break

They stick their ism up their ass and they call it belief

But when that ism schisms we’ll get nuclear relief

And it won’t take a minute to nuke us out of time

Won’t take but an instant to leave the world behind

No, it won’t take a second to leave the Age behind


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 54

I don’t think it really matters which political system we live under or what our religious

beliefs are, there are things we can do to make ourselves a better person. We kind of get

hung up in the pursuit of wealth and fame and forget that there are other goals to achieve.

Very simply put, the more we change ourselves, the more our perspective of the world

changes. There is still magic out there. We can find it and we can utilize it.

Freedom

Now it’s true we don’t always

Do what is right

We do what we think we’ve got the might to do


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 55

Survival of the fittest, the strongest will win

But that is not the road to freedom

That is not how to live

No one can take your freedom away

When you do a damn good job

Of making yourself a slave

Caught up in realpolitik

Habits lock you in

That takes away your choice

On how you should live

But you can rise above your poverty

Or you can break the pull of material greed

You can overcome your drug dependencies

You can eliminate your selfish needs

But if you choose freedom

Don’t take no silly chances

Don’t be no fool

Examine your own circumstances


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 56

Everybody wants you to be like them

They are scared of the man who seeks his

Total freedom

They lose control of the man

Who gains his total freedom

But you can put a stop to your spiteful attitudes

You can relieve us of your hateful moods

You can reduce your obnoxious interludes

You can diversify your self-centered views

And you can curb your lazy tendencies

You can grab hold of responsibility

You can break the bonds of your slavery

You can find the road that will set you free

But if you choose freedom

Don’t take no silly chances

Don’t be no fool

Be fluid in your circumstances

Everybody wants you to be like them


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 57

They are scared of the man who seeks his

Total freedom

They lose control of the man

Who gains his total freedom

Yes, you can redirect all your nasty energy

You can grow aware of your possibilities

You can be the master of new abilities

If you walk the road that will set you free

And no one can take your freedom away

When you do a damn good job

Of making yourself a slave

Caught up in everyday life

Habits lock you in

They take away the magic

In how you live


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 58

Most of the world’s major civilizations started three to four thousand years before Christ

in major river valleys; the Yellow River in China, the Indus in India, the Tigris/Euphrates

in Iraq (Mesopotamia), and the Nile. There was fresh water, a ready food supply and

transportation. The exception, of course, was in the Americas.

There were two main obstacles to overcome for the Americans. There were no pack

animals, no oxen or horses or mules or water buffalo to be beasts of burden. The animals

in America looked at the Indians and said, “Piss on you. Do your own work.” It really

didn’t matter because the second obstacle was that there was no convenient source of

grain. No wheat, barley, oats or rice. There was nothing to feed a growing mass of

people.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 59

The coastal people of Peru overcame these obstacles and were building monumental

public architecture by 3000 BC. They had a huge source of protein just off the beach.

Anchovies. Billions of them. They’d jump into your mouth if you held your jaw just

right. This was a pre-ceramic society, which made it hard to cook food, but they were

master weavers. They could weave baskets that would hold water. Some pretty incredible

women.

The people on the rest of the American continents kind of just languished. Everyday they

tried to scrape together enough food for a meal.

And then one of those incredible miracles happened around 1500 BC: The coming of

corn.

Teosinte was the predecessor of corn. It was a grass that would give off two or three

kernels. You’d have to plant a field the size of Texas to feed your family for a week. But

then something happened. God, nature, or a very skilled geneticist developed a plant that

would yield ears of corn. But there was still a major problem. The human body cannot

metabolize the protein found in corn. You could eat and poop to your hearts content and

still die of malnutrition. But mix in lime (from limestone, not the fruit), and corn becomes

a nutritional source of food. A Corn Mother. A staple to feed the masses.

Tortillas are earth, water, and corn. There is something very profound about that

relationship.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 60

Maize originated in Mexico, and within two hundred years had spread the length of North

and South America. Civilizations began to appear and to prosper.

This is the Mayan version of the coming of corn. In the Mayan language, corn and jade

are the same word, discernible only through context. A milpa is the little plot of land they

burn out of the jungle every spring in order to plant their crops. Enjoy.

P.S. Got a wedding anniversary this week-end. Look for Blue Flute on Monday or

Tuesday.

Have a good week-end.

Maize 1500 BC

Down in the thicket, it’s hard to spot my food

I listened to the jungle, one sound caught my mood

So I followed that quetzal to a mountaintop

My stomach growled loudly, I came to a stop

I watched a line of ants emerge from a crack

They carried a white kernel of maize on their backs


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 61

I asked them for a taste and to my surprise

It was milk of the Earth the way they satisfied

Milpa grow green, give us jade

Milky white seed, our mother maize

Magic water jar, moisten our fields

Milpa grow green, life to yield

Contrary ants wouldn’t bring me more maize

Anger rose within me, I squeezed them ‘round the waist

Then petitioned the four Mams to come to my aide

I had to find a way to recover that “jade”

Mams are the Masters of the wind and sky

Masters of the thunder and great flashes of light

Three times they tried, they issued forth their best

And each time that mountaintop withstood the test

Fourth Mam pondered

And then worked it out

Called on the woodpecker

To be His scout

To search the mountaintop

And find the deepest crack


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 62

Then to fly off in a hurry

And never look back

The wind arose abruptly, a fierce thunderstorm

A lightning bolt struck and burned straight to the core

Rock flying everywhere, woodpecker got hit

And tumbled to the ground in a bloody fit

Then flew off in a rage, a blood-stained head

Forever after that woodpeckers wore red

White corn was scorched, yellow, black and red

A gift from the Mams to keep my people fed

Milpa grow green, give us jade

Multi-colored seed, our mother maize

Magic water jar, moisten our fields

Milpa grow green, life to yield

Milpa grow green, life to yield


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 63

Circa 1200 BC a cataclysmic event shook the Mediterranean Sea. Seismic activity and a

stupendous volcanic eruption destroyed the Minoan civilization and rocked the Aegean

Islands. The sea level around the world may have risen by several feet. It’s a stretch, but

this Hopi myth sort of fits that event.

According to the Hopi, in order for them to be able to claim a place on this Earth, each

clan had to make a migration to the four pasos of the American continents; to the east and

west coasts, the tip of South American, and the Bering Sea surrounding the North Pole.

This song finds some of the clans at the northern paso.

Blue Flute 1280 BC


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 64

Listen to the blue flute

The mahu plays the blue flute

Feel the effects of his warm melody

See the notes float by

Filled with tropical heat

Watch the snow melt

Note the rise of the creek

Hear our sweet melody

The cold and ice impede us

The Spider Woman leads us

Implores us to summon

All our power for heat

To reach the northern paso

We must melt the ice sheet

She’s brought the clans together

For a warm harmony

Hear our sweet melody

The Sun Clan has the blessing of clear blue skies


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 65

They bring the Sun so close that we must shade our eyes

The Fire Clan focuses their prayers in a chant

The molten fires in the depths are at their command

Snake Clan sends vibrations throughout the ground

Starts the Earth to shaking, rocks come tumbling down

The mountain’s spitting fire, the mahu prances ‘round

Wild on his blue flute, the valleys fill with sound

Listen to the blue flute

The mahu plays his blue flute

Feel the effects of a warm melody

See the notes float by

Filled with tropical heat

Watch the snow melt

Note the flood of the creek

Note the rise of the sea

Now our powers vanish

Spider Woman has been banished

Creator decrees we meet our punishment

We’ve opened up the back door

To this sacred continent

We’ve upset the balance


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 66

Of the elements

Do you note the silence?


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 67

All right, so tell me, what’s a mahu?

The Indians of the American Southwest have done an excellent job of marketing

Kokopelli, the humpbacked flute player. He’s got a snappy name that has a good ring to

it. And he’s a cute little figure to boot. I’ve got a Kokopelli key ring and I drink coffee

from a Kokopelli mug. There’s a Kokopelli plaque on our wall.

Actually, there were two flute players; one grey, one blue, leaders of the Grey and Blue

Flute Clans. I can’t remember who is who, but evidently the other one never got famous

because no one can pronounce his name. His parents are probably still laughing about

that.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 68

I’ve got something different this week for my favorite readers. Instead of a song from

Long Road you get a chapter from one of my novels, Flipside, Part Two. We meet the

flute player on the plains of Peru. Yes, I agree, it’s an outlandish scenario. No, I don’t

believe it for a moment. But within the novel it’s all a dream, so take it with a grain of

salt and a shot or two of Mescal.

FLIPSIDE

Chapter 4

The transition felt easy and natural as he slipped from one state of awareness into

another. And yet, at the very moment that he crossed the threshold, his previous world

faded into mystery, a slate wiped clean, a dream that he could no longer remember. It

made him question whether or not it had even occurred.

He didn’t have the slightest inclination about where he had arrived. He was standing on a

gently rolling plain that stretched to fairly distant, stark brown, eroded mountains. They

in turn were followed by higher, mist filled ranges, violet in hue. The air was cool and

dry.

The plain immediately surrounding him was covered with shards of brown rock in a

consistently thin, even layer. Nearby, a shallow, dry arroyo snaked lazily into the broad
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 69

expanses. It had not seen water in months, perhaps years. There wasn’t the first sign of

vegetation anywhere along its course. The whole area was nothing but a desolate,

forsaken environment.

As he scanned the mountain flanks for a canyon that might contain water, he spied a

group of people not three hundred yards away. Their actions intrigued him, for they

appeared to be working the earth.

Surely they didn’t intend to farm this arid plateau, he asserted to himself. He was

absolutely certain that nothing would grow there.

Intent on resolving the mystery, he began to make his way toward them, but instead he

became sidetracked by the sound of an alluringly beautiful melody. To his surprise and

enchantment, he found the source to be a humpbacked flute player; a creature that stood

three feet tall on thin, spindly legs and resembled a giant, blue grasshopper. He had a

human face with long antennae protruding from his forehead. He was obviously a master

of the flute. The wanderer listened trance-like, captivated by the brilliance.

“That was beautiful,” he complimented at the conclusion of the song. “What sort of

creature are you?”

“I am a mahu!” the flute player exclaimed with a bubbling smile. His face appeared old

and wrinkled, but his voice was a surprisingly youthful falsetto. “The music from my
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 70

flute warms this cool mountain air. In my hump I carry seeds; those of maize, beans,

melons, and flowers.”

“Is that why those people are clearing rocks from the ground? To plant seeds?” the

wanderer asked in disbelief. “Nothing will grow here,” he added.

The mahu disregarded the skepticism.

“With the magic from my flute we can grow crops in any environment. But that is not our

sole purpose. We do not live here, but follow a star. These people are leaving their

signature on the ground as proof of their passage. I dare say the markings should last for

quite some time in this desert.” He flashed a broad grin before continuing. “As you can

see, other clans have already preceded us to this place.” He held out his arm in a broad

sweep across the dead, dusty plain.

The wanderer half-heartedly scanned the featureless grounds before replying. “I see

nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Perhaps there is nothing to be seen because of where you stand,” the mahu suggested.

“You of all people should know that. You shine brightly with the gift of the Sunfather. If

you are not grounded, why limit your perspective?”


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 71

The grasshopper put his flute to his lips and the music poured swiftly but gently from the

instrument. The wanderer saw the notes as large, rainbow-hued bubbles that streamed

into the sky. When he reached out to touch one, he was lifted firmly from the ground and

swept into the air. A ticklish sensation in his stomach caused him to wrap himself around

the bubble and hold on tightly.

The note rotated slowly until he found himself staring straight into the bright blue sky.

Apprehension gripped him when he realized that he was rapidly approaching a group of

intensely brilliant stars or lights. Or something. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was that

he was seeing.

And then an amazing transformation took place in his perception, and he realized that the

lights were actually people. Other people were walking the sky with him! Intuitively, he

understood that they were the same people who were clearing the rocks from the ground

below.

The magic note that he clung to rotated once again and his vision became focused on the

ground.

His mouth dropped open.

The plain was covered with markings! A multitude of lines ran straight and parallel for

miles or criss-crossed in random patterns. There were geometric figures and animal
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 72

figures, stylized birds and a whale. The figure presently being formed was that of a flute.

He realized that he was on the pampas of Peru. The Plain of Nazca was below him.

The flute playing ceased and the bubble that he was clinging to could no longer

regenerate itself. However, when it burst he did not fall. He analyzed the markings a

while longer before floating back to the ground.

Myriad questions numbed his mind as he gazed back into the sky. Again he saw the

people as lights. While some of them remained perfectly still, others made varying

motions; floating haphazardly, or in broad circles, or swinging as if on a pendulum.

He watched in admiration. “They shine so very brightly. Like stars in the daytime.”

A proud glint and a tear of joy lit up the eyes of the grasshopper. “Yes. They use the gift

from the Fathersun so very well.”

The wanderer understood the allusion well. By separating their awareness from their

bodies, these people could utilize their dual nature; the Earth Mother and Sun Father.

They needed no fancy gadgets or calculations to create the figures on the plain. They

simply directed their actions on the ground with the perspective from above.

“The figures on the ground I understand, no doubt being signatures of the migrating

clans. But tell me about the lines. What do they represent?”


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 73

“The lines represent many things,” the mahu answered. “Some mark the time of our

passage, while others time the passage of previous clans. But most of the lines are a

tribute to the Grandmother Spider. It is her web that surrounds the Earth to keep it from

separating. Where you find a great many lines intersecting on the plain, that is where the

power of the Spider Woman is greatest, for that is where the web touches the Earth”.

The concept of the web intrigued the wanderer, but before he could formulate another

question, they were interrupted by a deep, flapping noise accompanied by a gust of wind.

A large, green parrot touched down beside them.

He was huge! He was every bit the size of the grasshopper, but exceedingly more

massive and threatening. While the mahu seemed unfazed, the wanderer stared stupidly at

the bird.

“I figured we would meet again, white boy!” the parrot cackled. “Yes, it’s me. Mochni!

Mochni, the parrot. Don’t look so surprised. You look stupid enough without your mouth

hanging wide open.

“I look much better with a touch of yellow, don’t you agree? It makes me feel so much

more zestful!” Mochni nodded his head from side to side and did a little dance. His eyes

sparkled.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 74

The wanderer didn’t give a shit about the yellow feathers. It was the outrageous size of

the bird that concerned him. He remembered Mochni as being a larger than normal

parrot, but not three feet tall!

“How come you’re so much bigger than before?” he finally managed to ask.

“Because I’m younger!” the bird shouted, exceedingly pleased with himself. “I see that

you haven’t changed at all. You’re still as stupid as ever. Have you remembered your

name yet?”

“I am a wanderer. I am here to learn.”

“Can’t remember, huh? Well tell me, mister man of wisdom, from what time period do

you hail? How will you ever find your home in order to make use of all this knowledge

that you accumulate?”

The wanderer disregarded the questions.

“Why does being younger make you bigger?” he asked instead.

“Hasn’t that blue bug taught you anything? I haven’t changed! The conditions have. Ask

him. Time’s been shrinking his appearance for over four thousand years!”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 75

The wanderer was stunned. While he had certainly wondered about the mahu’s age, four

thousand years seemed like a preposterous assertion. He looked at the old grasshopper.

“Are you actually as old as he says?” he asked meekly.

The mahu had been standing by impassively, apparently uninterested in Mochni, but a

smile broke out when he heard the wanderer’s question. “I’m not quite as old as he

claims,” he snickered. “But close! I am not a man, remember, but a grasshopper with a

magical flute.” The mahu erupted into full-fledged laughter.

“I apologize for laughing,” he said after regaining his composure. “But you look so

serious. Mochni and I become smaller as the Age passes. That is the way with ones such

as us. We are relics from the Third Age. Our purpose here is to guide.

“Of more immediate concern is why you speak to this foul creature. Especially since you

two have already met. My people will not listen to him. Surely…”

“That little band of wanderers!?” Mochni interrupted. “Hah! I spit on them! Most of your

urchins have already left you anyway. That’s why civilizations arise!”

The mahu ignored the protests of the parrot and looked at the wanderer. “Much like

myself, Mochni is a spreader of seeds. Only his are the seeds of doubt and confusion, for

he is the Deceiver.”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 76

“I can’t believe you listen to this…this locust!” Mochni screamed, infuriated.

The flute player began to protest, but the parrot cut him off.

“Tell me, locust, do you know where I first met this time walker? It was in the future at

Tenochtitlan! That’s right. He was admiring the way Cortes deals with the native people.

While you and your puny little clans claim this land by walking the breadth of the

continents, north to south and east to west, your friend here knows that it is only wasted

effort. It will all come to naught! Absolutely nothing! The white ‘gods’ will claim

ownership of the land by simply planting a flag, and will then proceed to trample the

Earth asunder. Only when there is nothing left will they allow your people their freedom

of choice—to either live as white man lives or die!”

He cackled derisively as he turned towards the wanderer. “If you came here to spy on

these stupid natives, white man, you would do much better to spend your time at

Tiwanaku. There, at least, you can learn what they are capable of accomplishing. You

will learn nothing whatsoever by staying with these pathetic rag—a—muffins, these…”

“They are Hopi,” the wanderer interjected sternly. “Why don’t you just leave?”

“Hopi! That is a good name,” the mahu concurred with a thoughtful smile. “’People of

peace.’ That is a fine title for those who heed the word of the Creator. We really must talk

further, my friend.”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 77

“We could if this parrot would quit squawking in our ear,” the wanderer replied.

Without further ado, the mahu purposefully raised the flute to his lips. Sparkling, opaque

notes soon gathered thickly and furiously around the parrot.

Mochni’s eyes shone with terror. “I blame you for this, time walker! I’ll get you for this!”

he shouted. “That bug won’t always be around to protect you.” He was then lifted

forcefully from the ground and whisked away by the notes. Within seconds he had

receded from sight.

“Well, that’s certainly one good way to get rid of the jackass,” the wanderer applauded.

“He is rather appalling, isn’t he? There simply is no debating that devil, for his words are

tainted with poison.”

The wanderer dropped to the ground, suddenly subdued and exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” he moaned. “But that parrot drains me. He leaves me twisted and frustrated.

He attacks my identity, calls me white man, and makes me feel worthless.”

“Mochni is like that. He brings out the worst in you. He plays upon your aspirations, your

fears and your insecurities, and tries to plant you with the seeds of confusion. But I really
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 78

must say, your race is a silly thing to worry about. All men are the same. They have life

to live, decisions to make. It is not always an easy path.

“About your identity, I cannot help you. Is it true that you are lost in time?”

“I don’t know who I am or where I belong,” the wanderer admitted solemnly. “Perhaps

I’ve always been wandering. I remember certain historical events, so I must come from

the future, but I have no personal memories.”

“None at all?” the flute player inquired.

“No; only my previous meeting with Mochni and a visit to Oraibi, where your people end

their migrations.” And in a petty pathetic state, too, he added to himself. The thought did

nothing to improve his mood.

“Well, you are welcome to stay with us for as long as you’d like. You look tired. Perhaps

you’d care to rest?”

“Perhaps it would do me some good.”

“I will play my flute.”


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 79

The mahu sat down on the ground and proceeded to play a soft, enchanting lullaby that

induced heavy drowsiness in the wanderer. He slumped back to find a more comfortable

position as a purple mist billowed up around him. In an instant he was gone.

The mahu continued to play his flute.


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 80

Hey guys,

I meant to send this last Saturday but my typist pooped out on me. All she had to do was

weed eat, mow the lawn and bush hog the front forty, clean out the barn, tune up the car

and change the oil in the tractor, prepare three meals and put on her make-up. And of

course, bring me my beers. I tell you. Women these days. Mom would have had things

covered.

Be careful. Sam read this introduction before I could send it off, and now she’s going to

try and make it sound like I’m totally useless around here. She’s probably going to try to

make you believe that I don’t even refill the soap in the shower when it gets low. You all

know me. I wouldn’t do anything like that. I’m just not that devious. When that bar of

soap turns into a sliver, I always replace it with a new one.


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 81

It just goes to show that the woman doesn’t have enough to do around here to keep

herself occupied. I’ll probably have to start drinking more beer to help keep her busy.

Where did you first read about the purple light (mist)? That’s right—Legacy.

Where did you first read about the converging lines? Halfway To Karnak! Boy, ya’ll are

good.

Keep paying attention. There’s bound to be a test when this is all over.

FLIPSIDE

Chapter 6

“Look! The mist!”

“I see him!”

“He’s opaque.”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 82

“He’s returning!”

“…materializing.”

“He’s coming back to us!”

The mist dissipated the moment he opened his eyes. He saw that the excited voices

belonged to a throng of people that had gathered around him. The mahu sat directly

across from him, a weak smile upon his face. His flute rested across his lap.

“It’s sprinkling,” the wanderer stammered.

“Yes!”

“Does it rain here very often?”

“It’s highly unusual,” the grasshopper assured with a smile.

The wanderer rubbed his eyes. “It’s a wonder I came back here and not to another time

slot.”

“I continued to play my song, even after you summoned the purple mist,” the flute player

explained. “I watched as it took you away. I surmised that if you had a beacon to focus
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 83

upon, you might have a chance to return. And it worked! My magic notes followed you,

and you followed them back to the pampas.”

The wanderer maintained his silence.

“Do you remember where you went?” the mahu asked.

“I’m not sure.”

Although memories were beginning to crystallize, it was still a struggle to keep his

thoughts from drifting. The crowd leaned forward, eagerly awaiting his word. Hesitantly,

he began to relate the few details that he could recall easily.

He described a vast, absolutely flat, smooth plain, cream colored under a steel gray sky.

Three colossal pyramids hovered stationary above the landscape. His desire had been to

move closer in order to learn the reason why they remained suspended in the air, but he

had been unable to traverse the huge crevice in the plain, an enticing, black chasm that

soaked up all light. He had the oddest sensation that he had been within that crevice, yet

he could not recall any details of that experience.

Eventually, he had lost interest in the pyramids as he became intrigued by the translucent

bubbles that came out of nowhere and yet seemed to be everywhere. The bubbles were

massive enough that he had considered using them to transport his body across the
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 84

chasm, but he was afraid that they wouldn’t be able to support his weight. He finally

came to associate the bubbles with the incessant music that he heard. Only then did he

sense that there was a two way stream from a mother source. He latched on and ended up

returning to the pampas.

“It was all so real. Was it all in my imagination?” he asked quietly.

“Was the chasm black or blue?” the mahu inquired.

“Now that you mention it, it was a deeply rich blue, very enticing in some respects,

horrifying in others.”

“Now I understand why you have trouble recalling where you belong, why you have that

gap in your memory. You have described perfectly the Plains of Metamor. Within that

crevice there awaits a personal journey, unique to each individual. In most cases, it takes

years of preparation before one feels capable of challenging the chasm. It can be a very

dangerous journey, and you were gone a long time. I hope you know what you are

doing.”

Inwardly, the wanderer admitted to himself that he didn’t have the slightest clue as to

what he was doing, but he also had a feeling that he was on the verge of remembering

something extremely important.


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 85

“The purple mist is the gateway to the seven worlds,” the flute player pronounced.

Of course! The purple mist!

“Of the seven worlds, the Third and the Fifth are much like this Fourth World, and are

easy to maintain and relate to. The other four become increasingly alien. All of them are

unique. Metamor is the last world, and as its name implies, it is a transition. A

metamorphosis. Or perhaps the end.”

The wanderer continued to draw a blank.

“The tendency for most men is to hover in the purple mist, only briefly touching on the

other worlds in their dreams,” the mahu continued. “Needless to say, you enter the Blue

World. But upon leaving there, something makes you trip, and you end up catching only

the fringes of the white light. You end up dancing through time with no control.”

Memories suddenly inundated the time walker. Of course! It was all so simple! When he

was in the purple mist, the Earth was the white light. If he would enter the very center,

the most intense portion of the glow, he would find his own time period. He would find

his home!

He felt that he was about to experience further revelations when the spell was broken by

the mahu’s voice.


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 86

“I know that you are probably eager to test the mist again, but since you are here now,

won’t you please spend the day with us? I, for one, would be delighted.” His enormous

grin was accented by the flowing wrinkles upon his face.

The wanderer was touched. The mahu had helped him immeasurably. He had offered his

friendship and had shown him the way to return home. Of course he would stay the day.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said as he grasped the flute player’s hand. Whatever the

mahu was, he was surely a fine old soul.

The wanderer stood and stretched. Several people in the crowd, up until then attentive

and polite, suddenly closed in on him, attempting to touch him. He felt a moment of

apprehension.

“They want to feel your clothes,” the grasshopper explained. “What can I say? They are

like that. They know that you come from the future and they are curious.”

Blue jeans and a sweat shirt, he reflected. Big deal. But he was also certain that no one

intended him any harm, and he felt silly about his nervous reaction.

The mahu chuckled. “You really need to lighten up, you know? I haven’t seen you truly

smile since you’ve been here.” He gave a friendly wink. “Think about it. Here you are
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 87

talking with a grasshopper, an unusually tall one at that, and you’re all frowns. And a

couple of days ago there was a mammoth parrot. You know?” The flute player nudged

him good-naturedly on the knee. “Smile! Laugh! You put too much pressure on

yourself.”

“I try to take things in stride,” the time walker moped. A couple of days ago? Had he

spent that much time in the Blue World? What in the world did he do while he was there?

The mahu smiled at him with fatherly admiration. “Do you still wish to visit Tiwanaku?”

A broad smile crossed the time walker’s face. Ancient even to the Incas, Tiwanaku was a

mystical lure that he could not refuse. His excitement began to mount.

“Of course,” he managed to stutter. “I’d love to go there.”

But he immediately reverted to form and began to fret. He knew that the city was several

hundred miles from the Plain of Nazca, high up in the Andes Mountains near Lake

Titicaca. Exceedingly rough terrain separated them, and his enthusiasm began to dull as

he anticipated several weeks journey.

The mahu noticed his dismay and merely grinned.

“Ready?” he asked as he raised his flute to his lips.


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 88

Before he could respond, the time walker was engulfed by the music and carried away,

swiftly but light as the breeze. The next moment he found himself in a narrow alleyway

in a residential section of Tiwanaku. He was following the mahu towards a wider, sunlit

avenue that led through a busy marketplace.

They passed by stalls of ducks and geese and booths full of fresh vegetables. The

wanderer noticed that they were beginning to attract considerable attention, not to

mention a ripple of confusion. While some of the people were respectful and reverent of

the mahu, and understandably curious about himself, he couldn’t shake the impression

that most of the Tiwanakans couldn’t see either one of them.

Even so, they had gathered quite a following by the time they reached the outskirts of the

ceremonial center. The mahu paused there to let the magnitude of the city sink in. And

the wanderer took it in ravenously.

Across the moat the center was filled with massive platforms that were topped with

elaborate buildings and temples. Some of the structures utilized fifty ton blocks of stone

in a precise and vital architectural style. Inside one open temple stood a carved stone

monolith of a priest or deity, one of the two structures that he recognized. The other was

the Gate of the Sun, part of a larger temple complex that stood behind them. Although

smaller than the city of Tenochtitlan, Tiwanaku was on a grander, more dynamic scale.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 89

“The temple complex within the moat and the one behind us are ancient,” the mahu

announced. “They are already centuries old. Compare them to the more recent temples at

the far end of the court and you can see that the civilization is in decline.”

“And why is that?”

“The beginning stages of any civilization bring fresh, diverse ideas, and for a time great

deeds can be accomplished. But the survival and prosperity of society requires

specialization; food production, masonry, crafts, government. Laws are enacted and the

rules are expected to be obeyed. Children are taught to conform. As society becomes

more structured, laws become more inclusive. And when individual perception and

perspective are tuned to a narrow band to fit the rules, creativity begins to erode and

abilities decline.

“The early leadership of Tiwanaku learned that ritual could focus attention, and for a time

they were able to maintain momentum. The masses were misled into believing that they

kept the true faith, when in reality their thoughts were tuned to the building of the city

and maintenance of the culture. Instead of the Creator, they worship a monument to

themselves.”

“What about a democratic society?”

“A what?”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 90

“A free society.”

“No rules and regulations?”

“Well…”

“It is a contradicition in terms. One can be responsible to society, or one can be

responsible to freedom, but you can’t have it both ways.

“The Creator has given each one of us the gift of unlimited perspective. True freedom. It

is up to us to balance and maintain the entire gift by utilizing each side of awareness, the

Sunfather as well as the Earthmother. Many people here cannot see us now because they

have not polished their link to the Sunfather, and that is sad. What is sadder is that they

have forgotten that there is even a link to keep open.”

“But the monolith in the temple depicts a priest holding pahos, male and female. Surely

they keep open their door to the Creator,” the wanderer protested.

“If they walked with the Creator, there would be no need for idols, no need for

pretensions. Listen to me!” the mahu exclaimed suddenly. “I’m beginning to sound like

you. So serious!
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 91

“But I believe that I have answered the questions that Mochni raised. Your concern the

other day was not so much about being a white man as it was about being a traitor and

breaking from your cultural roots.”

“How do you know that I have broken from my culture?”

“You would not be here otherwise. Let’s say that it is a prerequisite for what you do,

although it intrigues me that you choose to visit the high cultures. Be careful that you do

not escape the clutches of one civilization, only to be trapped by another. Remember,

only freedom can lead you to the mysteries that you need to uncover.

“Come now,” he prodded jovially. “I will show you my favorite place in this city.”

They made their way across the moat and into the tangled web of the temple complex.

The soldiers and priests at the gates let them pass unmolested, as if they feared or were in

awe of the mahu, but they kept the following masses out. Many of the walls that they

passed were covered in murals, but the wanderer caught only a casual glimpse of the

imagery because he was afraid of losing sight of the fast moving grasshopper.

They finally came to rest inside the sunken court, another part of Tiwanaku that would

survive the years. The forty by fifty foot court was eight foot deep, comprised of blocks

of stone that weighed from five to fifty tons each. At least sixty human faces carved out

of stone protruded from the walls. Painted in natural pigments, they were completely life-
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 92

like and represented people from around the globe, from Africa, Europe, Asia, Australia,

and America. The craftsmanship was superb, and with very little effort, the wanderer

could imagine the faces imbued with the life force, staring thoughtfully and serenely back

at him.

“Every continent on the face of the Earth is represented here,” the wanderer mumbled in

amazement, echoing an age old riddle. “How is that possible?”

“During the beginning stages of the city, the people had not yet strayed so far from the

Sunfather. There were still many who possessed the ability to see the lines of the

Grandmother Spider. A few of those people knew how to grasp those lines. The strands

carried them across the sea or to wherever they wished to go. When they returned, they

carved the likeness of those they met on their journeys. The murals on the walls we

passed depict some of their stories. There haven’t been any new faces now for several

hundred years because the present people can no longer isolate the lines of the Spider.”

The mahu stared at the wanderer with admiration.

“You, on the other hand, give me hope for the future, for you utilize your dual aspects.

You are able to see my people as they truly are, spirit fire from the Sun, as well as their

Earthly, bodily aspect. You walk the sky and have the ability to see Mochni and myself.

It is people like you who give us stature. The fewer people there are who are capable of

seeing us, the smaller we become. We are truly in the eye of the beholder.”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 93

“Back on the pampas I saw your people as stars…”

“Which they truly are. The spirit fire.”

“…but I didn’t see the lines of the web.”

“For the same reason that many Tiwanakans don’t see us now; your attention was turned

elsewhere. The lines are there.”

“Do they touch the Earth anywhere near here? Can you show them to me?”

The mahu suppressed a sigh. “Follow me.”

They departed the city and then followed a lightly worn footpath across the rust colored

hills of the Altiplano, and for the first time the wanderer became aware of the extreme

altitude. He was having difficulty catching his breath in the cold, thin air and it was

beginning to make him feel weak and sluggish. He stumbled along as if he was drunk,

while the mahu skipped effortlessly along in front of him, which made his mood even

more ill-mannered.

“Is this the place?” he asked irritably when they finally came to a halt.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 94

“This is it! We are in the center of the intersecting lines.”

Although the wanderer could discern no difference in that spot from the rest of the vast

plain, he had to admit that he no longer felt sluggish. In fact, he felt just the opposite;

energetic and powerful.

“I want to convey my good wishes, for I believe this is the moment of our parting,” the

mahu announced solemnly as he held out his hand. “I am happy to have met a man from

the future. You have done my heart much good.”

The wanderer was shocked and confused by the pronouncement and was reluctant to take

the flute players hand. He had grown very fond of the hunchbacked grasshopper; had

come to think of him as being a friend and mentor, and he had no intention of leaving

him now.

“I know your curiosity. You will grab hold of one of the lines and then you’ll be gone.

You would not otherwise be satisfied,” the mahu explained. “And once you leave, you

will not return.”

“I’ll be back! The other people returned to carve the faces. I’ll return.”

The mahu shook his head sadly. “No. You will get lost. You will not return.”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 95

“You can play your flute and I’ll follow your music back,” the wanderer persisted. Why

not? It had worked before.

“I’m sorry, but in this instance I’m afraid my song will be needed for other purposes.”

Other purposes? In a bad mood to begin with, the wanderer became extremely

exasperated. He sat down on the ground in a snit. Hell, he didn’t see any damn lines to

begin with!

“My music will be needed to show you the lines,” the grasshopper explained, obviously

amused by the time walkers stubbornness. He sat down on the ground and readied his

flute.

“It has certainly been a pleasure. If ever you find yourself in a quandary, facing

impossible odds, think of me. Perhaps it will help you gain a new perspective. I wish you

well on your quest, time walker, whether that quest is for knowledge or for your home.”

He started to put the flute to his mouth, but then reconsidered.

“Uh, one more thing,” he said. “Lighten up, huh?”

And then he grinned that huge, wrinkled grin before becoming one with his magical

instrument.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 96

As the melody gathered in volume and richness the wanderer witnessed the world begin

to change. The physical features of the land and air dissolved, becoming a translucent

superimposition over the true source, the life force, the fire from the Sun.

The wanderer saw that he was surrounded by energy and it overwhelmed him. Everything

glowed. Every rock, every shrub, every particle of dirt was alive with energy. No single

part of the Earth was dead! Everything pulsed with the life force and was connected to

everything else by filaments of light that resembled strings. It was true! He marveled.

The web of life was no metaphor.

He looked up and saw hundreds of fine, gossamer lines of a different texture criss-

crossing the sky. Many of them converged above him and dropped to the ground on the

very spot where he was sitting. Reaching out his hand, he grasped a particularly

appealing strand and was immediately pulled from the ground and whisked away! The

anticipated ticklish sensation was short-lived, quickly replaced by an oppressive,

inescapable feeling of enormous pressure. Unnatural and stifling as it was, he

nevertheless knew that it corresponded to his traveling the lines at a fantastic rate of

speed, and it was up to him to persevere.

At the precise moment that the pressure became unbearable, he found himself bodily on

the ground once again. No longer was he in the Andes, but instead was standing in amber
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 97

sand on the top edge of a desert plateau. A broad river flowed below in the near distance,

its flood plain green and lush and cut with canals. The air was hot and heavy.

When he glanced around, he was shocked and confused by what he saw. On the horizon

stood three giant pyramids, and he wondered if the lines had taken him to the Blue

World.

No!

He realized right away. Nestled unmistakably between the pyramids sat the Sphinx. He

was in Egypt!

Overwhelming exhilaration led to a flustered, disoriented feeling. His knees became

weak. He yearned for water. He yearned for the purple mist.

Before he could slump to the ground in exhaustion, the mist came and snatched him

away.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 98

Every major archaeological ruin across Mexico and Guatemala has one thing in common;

the ball court. Some ceremonial centers have clusters of ball courts around them. This

game was played amongst the Mesoamerican Indians for over 1500 years running, with

probably very little change in the rules. Today we don’t know how this game was played.

The idea that competitive teams were sent to different cities to play the ball game is my

own construct. Maybe it happened, maybe it didn’t. The problem with trying to do

history in the America’s is that there isn’t any history until Columbus and Cortes arrived

to wreck havoc on the civilizations. Only in the past twenty years has the Mayan code

been broken so that we can read their language. Names and events are starting to come

into the record. Of course, as with any government, there are a lot of tall tales being told,

so one still has to read between the lines.


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 99

One thing is fairly certain; Teotihuacan, outside Mexico City, was the dominant power of

its time (200 BC-600 AD). It influenced city-states from the Gulf coast to Guatemala.

While the ball courts stand out at El Tajin, Monte Alban, Xochicalco, Chichen Itza,

Copan, Tula, Tikal, and so forth, it is hard to find the courts at Teotihuacan. Go figure.

Ball Game 148 AD

Going to the ball game

Getting ready for the ball game

We’re all in top condition

We’ll meet the competition

We’re ready for the ball game today

Going to the ball game

We’re all ready for the ball game

It’s an exercise in will

A testing of our skill

We’re getting ready for the season of trade


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 100

It’s a festive atmosphere at Teotihuacan

We’re soon to take the mountain road to Monte Alban

With the seers and dancers and the mural painters

But we’re the number one attraction

We’re the ball game players

All the winners here at Teotihuacan

Get to play the Zapotecs at Monte Alban

It’s an honor to represent Teotihuacan

Walk the Valley of Oaxaca down to Monte Alban

Play the number one court down at Monte Alban

We’ve been to El Tajin

Played the Huastecs at El Tajin

It’s a heated rivalry

But our spirit reigned supreme

Now we’re ready for the challenge today

Going to play the ball game

We’re all ready for the ball game

I will look for you at courtside


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 101

Encouragement is so nice

Hope to see you at the ball game today

I’ll look for you at the ball game today

Looking forward to the ball game today


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 102

OK. So we’re back to the Conquest. At one time Long Road had twelve songs, but there

were too many holes in the story. And then the outline grew to sixty. I have actually

written 34, so there are still a lot of holes. That’s why I have included some chapters from

Flipside.

I keep hearing little voices in my head. They say, “I know this flakey character, this

Wayne. He has no musical ability whatsoever. He can’t sing, doesn’t play an instrument

of any kind, and there are too many words for these things to really be songs. He’s

delusional. He’s nuts. He really can’t even tap his fingers. He’s got to be full of kaka-

poopoo.” Go ahead. Believe what you want. Stand outside our shower. Hell, I’ve even

put the chapters of Flipside to music! Flipside is actually an opera!

Yeah, right.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 103

Once again, many thanks to my lovely assistant. Putting these chapters into the computer

is time consuming, and it probably wouldn’t get done without Sam, my wife and partner

(not typist).

Have a good day.

FLIPSIDE

Chapter 2

It felt good to stretch his limbs.

Even though his thoughts were as thick and cumbersome as the swirling gray fog that

surrounded him, he felt physically stronger. He knew his rest had been beneficial.

He breathed deep the crisp, pine scented air and then began to make his way slowly down

the steep, wooded slope. When he stepped from the forest into a golden brown meadow,

the stifling mist thinned and a spectacular panorama opened up before his eyes.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 104

It was a stunningly beautiful valley, fifty miles or more across at its widest point. The

North side was open, and veed away in a broad plain a mile or so below him, broken here

and there by a low, lonely mountain. The converging end of the vee consisted of tall,

rugged ranges. The highest peaks were snow covered. The one nearest him was actively

volcanic and spouted ominous spurts of smoke.

But the most compelling feature of the valley lay at the foot of the opposite range; a sky

blue lake that flashed and sparkled in the sunlight. Near one end was a large island that

was linked to the mainland by three long causeways. They reached out like spokes to the

North, South, and West.

Where in the blazes am I? He wondered. How did I get here?

As if in answer to his unspoken question came a strange, grating voice. “Welcome to the

Conquest! Before you is the Valley of Mexico, the island/city of Tenochtitlan, the jewel

of the New World!”

He turned quickly and to his surprise discovered an unusually large parrot eyeing him

from a perch. It was a strikingly beautiful bird, resplendent in its rich, green plume.

“My name is Mochni. Mochni the parrot. And yours?”

His name?
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 105

What exactly WAS his name? Did he even have one? He could not think clearly. There

was a disconcerting gap in his continuity that he simply could not access. He could

remember nothing before his initial appearance on the mountainside!

“Never mind. It’s not important,” the bird consoled. “After all, what’s in a name? You

are you! Right?”

“I am a wanderer,” he replied hastily, wary of the birds patronizing manner.

“You are a man of wisdom!” Mochni corrected gleefully. “And you have arrived at the

most opportune moment! We are about to witness the fall of Tenochtitlan and the

beginning of a new epoch in the history of the world!”

The wanderer felt a tug of apprehension as he attempted to fit himself into the time

frame.

“Is that truly the Aztec capital in the valley below?” he asked weakly. Why could he

remember some history when he couldn’t remember his name? He was well versed in the

lore of the Aztecs. Could he have actually traveled into the past?

“The Conquest is taking place at this very moment,” the parrot wheezed. “You should

take advantage of your good fortune and project yourself over the city.”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 106

Noting the pitiful look of despair on the wanderers face, Mochni prodded him. “Go

ahead. I know you can do it. Walk the sky! I will be your guide. Give you history from a

bird’s eye point of view, so to speak. You can trust me.”

Stricken by those last words, the wanderer wavered. Could he truly trust the parrot?

Mochni’s eyes betrayed keen intelligence, but they also cast a sinister glint. And the

grating, mocking tone of voice had put him on edge from the very beginning. Still, he

couldn’t deny that he harbored a compelling desire to see Tenochtitlan up close.

The wanderer’s indecisiveness ceased to matter when he discovered that he had already

begun to walk the sky. Even though he was standing in the meadow, he was also flying

with the parrot. Even though he was a man, and not a bird, still he was soaring through

the air, gleefully riding the wind currents down the side of the mountain.

When they reached the valley floor and neared the shoreline of the lake, a giant clamor

caught his attention. The water surrounding the city was literally teeming with canoes.

There were thousands of them filled with warriors battling one another. From six or

seven larger, more cumbersome boats came the flash of fire and roar of cannon. A full

fledged battle was in progress.

The wanderer watched the desperate, determined fighting along the causeways and at the

main gates of the city. And though it was mostly native fighting native, he took special
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 107

note of the Spaniards fighting bravely on their horses, confident in their armor. Musket

shot pocked the air. The banner of Castile waved gloriously in the breeze.

Blood flowed freely.

“Noche Triste, the Night of Sadness, is over,” Mochni lamented. “Moctezuma is dead.

Disease has swept Mexico. Cortes has returned for the final time and set siege to the city.

It will be only a matter of days now until we see the end of this proud Aztec empire.”

Groans and rallying cheers ebbed and flowed as they continued their flight across the

water. The rhythms of drums, the blare of horns and conch shells, and firing of musket

and cannon intermingled to rake their senses. But when they reached the city proper, the

awesome magnificence of the canals and gardens made the wanderer forget about the

human carnage taking place outside the gates.

“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Mochni shuddered with pride. “These ingenious people

reclaimed the land from Lake Texcoco and created the Venice of the New World! In fact,

Venice pales in comparison with Tenochtitlan. Just marvel at the accomplishments!

Absolutely astounding!”

They swept low over a ball court as they neared the ceremonial center, where the

wanderer was swept by the grandeur and dwarfed by the immensity of the enormous

pyramids and temples. At the same time, he was repulsed by the repugnant odor of dried
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 108

blood that emanated from the main structure, the Templo Mayor. The stench was strong

enough to overwhelm his sense of smell.

As they commenced to glide above the residential and market areas toward the sister city,

Tlatelolco, the wanderer realized that the parrot was still speaking.

“…inspired stone carvings and murals…gardens radiating throughout the island…a

paradise…the grand epitome of civilization. The largest city in the world! It was with my

advice and influence that they attained such cultural heights, you know…”

But the wanderer was not interested in the bird’s commentary, preferring instead to

concentrate on his own disturbing thoughts. He knew that the Aztecs had a thriving,

vibrant society. They produced tremendous art and architecture; had an understanding of

astronomy and a finely honed calendar. To witness it all first hand was deeply satisfying.

And yet at the same time it was utterly distressing because this was their end. The whole

city was in a spasmodic state of panic. Within a matter of days it would be reduced to

rubble and plunder; the women raped; the surviving men crippled by the conquering

horde.

He felt a penetrating shiver and then found himself back on the mountainside, gazing

down upon the valley. Mochni was perched on the limb beside him.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 109

“It’s a shame, isn’t it? Such a tragic shame,” the parrot commented sadly. “My proud,

powerful empire, my glorious Aztec civilization, over three-hundred years in the making,

mind you, brought unmercifully to its knees in a matter of days. Hundreds of thousands

of people slaughtered and humiliated, destroyed by a measly one-thousand white men.”

The parrot paused to let his words sink in, and then uttered an obscene, traitorous laugh.

“Simply delicious, don’t you think?”

The comment caught the wanderer by surprise. “I wasn’t thinking that at all!” he

stammered. He wondered if Mochni was truly aware of the events that were about to

unfold. Or had the parrot deliberately led these people to the brink of disaster, as his

callous tone suggested? “Did you know that this point in time was approaching?” the

wanderer demanded impetuously.

“I grew giddy waiting for the moment,” the bird replied with a sparkle in his eye.

The wanderer felt enraged. “In one hundred years this culture will be all but extinct; their

spirit crushed! You could have prepared them to meet the challenge and instead you’ve

led them to disaster!”

“How odd! You attack me and yet defend my followers.”


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 110

“You filthy traitor,” the wanderer accused. “I detest the loss of cultural diversity as much

as environmental diversity.”

Mochni spat on the ground. “Don’t give me that self-righteous blather,” he sneered.

“With your arrival, I am no longer even needed here. You will do my work for me!”

“I did not come with Cortes.”

“You truly don’t know yourself, do you?” the parrot countered. “Well, take a look, white

boy! You are one of them. Do you hear me? You are a white man! It is your people who

are responsible for this holocaust, not me. It’s your people who bring misery, disease, and

oppression. Not only will you exterminate the native population, but you’ll crush the very

spirit of the Earth in order to attain your cultural domination, the name of your game.

“As for you personally, mister man of knowledge, you don’t even know your own name.

You have no idea who you are and yet you presume to judge me? Well, look at yourself

before you judge anyone else, white boy.”

His tirade over, the parrot cocked his head and waited for a reply.

Shocked and confused by the scathing accusations, the wanderer remained speechless.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 111

“Now you’ve forgotten how to use your tongue as well,” the bird taunted. “Well, I’ve got

better things to do than wait for you to regain your senses. I’m sure we’ll meet again. I

just hope you’re not so stupid then.”

The wanderer watched in stupor as Mochni flapped his wings and flew off, gliding

serenely into the valley. Smoke was rising from Tenochtitlan, making viewing hazy.

It’s just as well, thought the wanderer. He was in no mood to watch the destruction

anyway. The whole situation was appalling.

Confused and upset, he turned from the valley panorama and strode towards the pass in

the mountains. He was well aware that he had let the distasteful parrot get to him. Still, he

couldn’t help but wonder whether or not Mochni was right. Did he share responsibility

for the massacre?

No! The damn bird was wrong! How could he be responsible for what was happening to

the Aztecs, or to any of the other native Americans? He wasn’t even from this time

period. He was from the future! How else could he have knowledge of the outcome of the

Conquest”

Why couldn’t he remember his identity?


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 112

Distraught, he closed his eyes and clenched his fists, but as he stretched his arms toward

the sky, a strong premonition forced him to reopen his eyes and re-examine his

surroundings.

To his shocking surprise, he found himself balanced precariously on the edge of a

smooth, rock ledge. Before him, the cliff fell away for almost a thousand feet. Fighting

back his panic, he backed away firmly and methodically.

When he reached more comfortable footing, he glanced around and noticed a cluster of

rock and adobe houses on top of a protruding mesa spur. There were people in the

village, mostly women, who were attending to their daily routines; whitewashing walls,

mending clothes, and preparing meals. Children were playing games, chasing one

another, or helping with the chores.

It was mid-day, bright with a cloudless sky. A warm, steady breeze buffeted his face. It

was obvious that he was no longer in the alpine region above Mexico City. The entire

scope of the scenery had changed miraculously in the blink of an eye. How was it

possible, he wondered? What had he done to accomplish such a feat?

A little girl popped up suddenly in front of him, and the questions were chased from his

mind. He had been oblivious to her approach and her sudden appearance startled him.

She couldn’t have been more than five years old. Except for a simple bead necklace that

stood out prominently against her dark body, she was stark naked. She was also very
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 113

nervous and fidgety. She kept her gaze on him at all times as if she was afraid to break

eye contact.

He was becoming increasingly hypnotized by her stare. Her eyes were huge and round,

dark and deep.

“Where am I?” he inquired, attempting to break her spell. “What is this place?”

The little girl wouldn’t keep still. She arched her arms high behind her back and then,

lifting her knees nearly to her chin, marched around him in an ever tightening circle. And

then she dramatically unwound, shouting, “Oraibi, simpleton! Third Mesa! Don’t you

know? Aren’t you our friend?”

“Yes,” he answered tentatively. “Of course I am.”

She eyed him suspiciously and then began to circle around once again, hyperactively

bending and contorting her body.

“The star has led us to the end of our migrations. The clans have completed their

wanderings, and now we wait for the Creator to reveal the outcome of His plan.”

As she turned a cartwheel, she came frightfully close to the edge of the mesa.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 114

“In the meantime, as you can see, things have gotten pretty ridiculous.”

Ridiculous indeed, he thought nervously. Totally outrageous was more like it.

“Not me, silly. Everybody else!” she retorted as if she could read his thoughts. “Come on,

I’ll show you.”

He followed her into the village. His intentions were to be polite and friendly to

everybody, but nobody paid him any attention. In fact, as they continued towards the

square, it became apparent that nobody could even see him.

“See?” the little girl intoned. She continued to squirm and hop about as if she had to

relieve herself. “Nobody even sees you! And they all think I’m the crazy one. They all

say it, you know. ‘Sparrow of the Broken Ledge is crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy!”

She continued her chant until they reached the edge of the ceremonial center, a fairly

large area that contained six to eight kivas, seemingly spread haphazardly. Hopi men

were lazing about, some clothed in exotic, colorful garb, but most dressed in drab cotton

or a mere loin cloth.

“Maybe one of these guys is smart enough to see you.”


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 115

No sooner were the words out of her mouth when the wanderer noticed one of the men

notice him. The man’s expression of disbelief was unforgettable. Once he composed

himself, and made sure that the visitor was still watching, he strode purposefully towards

the edge of the mesa and then tossed some kernels of corn into a pit. He picked up a

fifteen foot long pole, ten inches in diameter, as if it weighed nothing at all, and began

effortlessly working it up and down in the pit, pulverizing the corn into meal.

The wanderer was amazed. It seemed beyond reason that the man could work the tall,

cumbersome pole in such an easy manner. The post had to weigh more than the man

himself!

The other men had joined together in a chant. The corn grinder eventually grew bored

and left the pole standing in the hold. He gathered the chanters behind him and then led

them past the wanderer in a single file. Each man who passed gave him a quick, furtive

glance, making sure to make eye contact.

The wanderer followed the line with his gaze. The withering, side winding motion

reminded him of a snake. He saw each man dip a hand into a container of whitewash and

then continue on to the edge of the mesa. When the last man arrived, a command was

given and, in unison, they began to wave their whitewashed hand into the air, as if

painting or rubbing an unseen object.

Bewildered, the wanderer questioned the little girl. “What are they doing?”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 116

“Absolutely nothing,” she responded dryly. “They merely show off for you. There is no

purpose to what they do.”

“But what do they think they’re doing?” he pressed.

She directed his gaze across the valley floor to another mesa two or three miles away. At

first glance he noticed nothing out of the ordinary, but as he continued to watch, he saw a

whitewash spread slowly but distinctly across the ocher cliff side of the distant ridge.

Seeming no less than a miracle, it completely mesmerized him.

The little girl was less fascinated.

“See what I mean?” she groaned, once again becoming animated. “There is no purpose to

what they do. Whitewashing the cliff! The morons! With all this work to do in Oraibi,

they have nothing better to do than their cheap, useless magic. They’d be better off if they

looked to feeding themselves! Every year now more and more Tasavuh come to steal our

maize. They know that, and still they sit around all day like they’re something special.

And they call me crazy!”

Overcome with despondency, she stopped waving her arms and plopped to the ground in

a heap.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 117

“Only a one-heart can learn what they learn,” she lamented. “But they lose direction so

quickly! They all end up being a two-heart, and then they can’t be trusted. They’ve

regressed to spiteful witchcraft, shooting pellets of corn into people to make them sick or

die. They’ve tried to do that to me, but I won’t let them!”

“Can you walk the sky?” he asked.

“Walk the sky? P-tah!” She spat on the ground. “You ask such silly questions. Some of

us can. But what good does it do to see Tasavuh coming? There is nothing we can do to

prevent it.”

A sudden urgency swept over her and she jumped to her feet. “Father says that YOU can

renew our purpose, give us new direction that will make our efforts worthwhile. But

you’ll refuse to do it!” There was venom in her voice.

The wanderer stood immobilized, shocked by her sudden accusation.

“What’s wrong with you anyway?” she scoffed as she once again began to circle him in a

scrutinizing manner. “It’s as if you can’t remember or something. Is it because you are

white? You are, aren’t you? It’s so hard to tell with you fading in and out like that!” She

kicked dirt towards him in a spiteful manner. “Who are you anyway?”

He stood dumbstruck as her question burned into his soul.


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 118

Who was he?

He didn’t have a clue. And yet he clearly understood most of what he had witnessed. He

was now at the Hopi mesas in northern Arizona, probably during the same time that

Cortes was crushing the Aztecs. He had not seen any horses in or around the village. But

while he could define his present place in the chronological order, he had no recollection

of his own personal history. Why? He didn’t know who he was or his purpose in being

there. He simply could not remember.

Was he white? Mochni had made the same assertion. And while he certainly wasn’t the

color of the whitewashed cliff, his skin was lighter than that of the little girl’s. Did it even

matter?

“Does Mochni appear to you here?” he asked, attempting to change the topic.

“The parrot? I have heard of him, but have never seen him. Don’t worry. If he ever comes

here, we will not be swayed by that evil spirit’s voice. Everyone here is too lazy.”

Sparrow’s pessimism matched his own opinion. Mochni would have no reason to meddle

with these people. Why should he? Even the Spaniards would overlook these unassuming

clans living in the middle of a barren land. It would be the Hopi’s salvation.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 119

He numbly examined his outstretched arms. There was no use denying it. He was indeed

a white man.

“You aren’t going to help us, are you?” Sparrow admonished, half accusing, half

pleading. A tear was in her eye.

“There is nothing I can do, little one. Absolutely nothing.” Hell. He couldn’t even

remember his own name! How could he hope to help these people?

He felt ashamed by his insensitive answer, but he felt that he owed her the truth. Finding

nothing more to add, he turned to leave.

“Wait! Please don’t go yet!”

She fidgeted with her necklace for a moment and then held out a huge paho, a prayer

stick that was nearly twice the size of her own little body. He admired the large eagle

feather that would carry her prayer/message to the sun.

“The prophecy has come true,” she declared. “When our white Friend finally returned, he

no longer knew who he was. My prayer is that you get well soon.”

And then he felt a tremendous rush of wind, and the little girl was nowhere to be seen.

Glancing up, he saw an eagle soaring aloft, on its way to the sun.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 120

Saddened and demoralized, the wanderer sat down on the edge of the mesa, oblivious to

the surrounding men. He concentrated instead upon the intriguing purple mist that

billowed up from the clear desert below. He solemnly awaited its arrival.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 121

So here’s the thing. The Aztecs could have crushed the Spaniards as they tried to set foot

on the Gulf coast. Instead, Moctezuma pulled a Hamlet and couldn’t make a decision.

(Re-read Portents). The Aztecs were a conquering people and demanded tribute from all

the people they dominated. Needless to say, all the subjugated Indian groups in Mexico

hated the Aztecs. So Cortes conquered Mexico with 500 Spanish soldiers and 500,000

Indian allies. He then turned on those allies and brutally subjugated them, too. This was

made easier by the fact that European diseases had already halved the population of

Mexico, and the people who survived were in a terribly weakened state.

In 1540 Fray Marcos led Coronado and his soldiers into New Mexico. They defeated the

Zuni at Zuni and then proceeded to the Rio Grande Valley in New Mexico. They were

looking for gold; especially the fabled golden cities of Gran Quivira and Cibola. The

pueblo Indians caught on fast. “Keep going,” they said as they pointed into the distance.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 122

“It’s just over the next rise!” Coronado wandered around the high plains, lost a few

horses and drove stakes into the Llano Estacado to find his way back. “Damn,” said the

Indians. One hundred years later, the Comanche were the master horsemen of the plains.

Would history have been different if the Aztecs had crushed Cortes at the coast? I doubt

it. Wave after wave of white people were coming to the New World. Only the

circumstances would have been different.

History

Sparkling jewel on valley lakes

Tenochtitlan, Aztec paradise

Great pyramids, palaces

Terraced gardens, canals

Parrots and ocelots

Feathered serpents as well

Moctezuma, your sad offerings

With so many gods to appease


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 123

Bloody sacrifice in temples of death

Snatch the living heart from out of the chest

Is it Father Sun you desecrate?

To be confused by myth, and lose true faith?

A bearded white man may be here

But Quetzalcoatl hasn’t returned

Boldly from out of the East he sailed

No way in Hell he could have failed

Hernando Cortez, Conquistador

Such a wondrous land to claim for Spain

For gold and glory and God and King

Do you think you could have

Been their friend?

Don’t you think you could have extended your hand?

They greeted you suspiciously

As you made your way with five hundred men

Deceit and treachery and the will of God

For the Lord provided at every turn

Mexico was offered to accept or spurn


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 124

Coronado, your Franciscan Friar

Led you with promise to New Mexico

A grand new frontier for dreams of gold

New empires there to plunder and spoil

The Seven Cities of Cibola

1540 and what did you find?

A harsh, cold winter and a meeting with fate

No Quivira or Cibola, no cities of gold

Just Pueblo Indians in adobe huts

Cornmeal and turquoise and pottery

Kiowa and buffalo on the plains

Hopi and Zuni farming arid plateaus

Few Apache, no Comanche or Navajo

Coronado, why don’t you go home?


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 125

So, what were the Hopi doing when white men arrived on the continent? Not much. They

were sitting around waiting, like Sparrow of the Broken Ledge said. Their prophesies

were for the same date as the Aztecs, Ce Acatl, 1519. They heard rumors. Pahana was

late. He was supposed to go directly to Oraibi. Instead, Coronado sent an emissary who

first met the Hopi at Antelope Mesa. It was not a pretty picture. When the Hopi put corn

meal on the ground to bless the reunion, the Spaniards thought the Hopi were drawing a

line across the sand. Not good.

Kisiwu is a sacred spring fifty miles north of Oraibi. It is where they plant their paho’s,

their prayer sticks. Hawikuh is the home of the Zuni. The nakwach is a particular

handshake. Home Dance is Niman Kachina, the summer ceremony. A kachina is a spirit.

He spends half his time in this world, half in the Underworld. Soyal is the ceremony of

the winter solstice. The true Pahana will return at the end of Soyal.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 126

As you can see, the Hopi are a simple people with very complex beliefs. Sort of like the

Maya were when Columbus arrived in America. All the great cities of the Maya had

crumbled and returned to the jungle by that time. No one would have ever thought that

the ancestors of those simple people found living in the jungle could have been the one’s

who’d built the great centers of Tikal, Calakmal, Caracol, Copan, Palenque, Yaxchilan,

Uxmal, Edzna, Chichen Itza, Quirigua, Piedras Negras, Bonampak, Naranjo, Tonina, and

so forth and so on, but they did. Appearances can oftentimes be very deceiving.

Antelope Mesa 1539

Home Dance is over, the songs have been sung

Niman Kachina, spirit beings go home

To renew the Road of Life in the Underworld

Keep to the Plan of Creation for this Fourth World

Now Eagle spirit soars with our prayers to the Sun

Spruce clouds on the horizon promise rain to come

But our paho’s at Kisiwu were scattered around

And rumors out of Hawikuh are spreading sad sounds


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 127

White men with much power, thunder and death

Riding swift beasts of terror and violence

And though I’ve kept the knowledge and still walk the sky

Earth power turns against me now, it’s closing my eyes

Still, it’s the moment we’ve been waiting for all our lives

Pahana will be pleased; we’ve been true to our rites

***

Tear drop morning brought a sad voice

When it should have been a time

To laugh and rejoice

We met them man to man

We laid our cornmeal down

They spurred their creatures forward

Thunder!

Our blood seeped to the ground

Antelope Mesa

My tears can’t save you

Antelope Mesa
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 128

My tears will bathe you

Antelope Mesa

My fears will bathe you

***

Led them to Oraibi....

We drew four more lines of cornmeal

And then offered our hand

...........................

Glittering trinkets!

They must hold some secrets!

But we knew right away that they

Did not understand

They did not complete the nakwach

They were not our friends

Sad disappointment

How did they forget?

They had no recollection of our

Sacred tablets
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 129

We huddled in brief council....

We then told them what we wanted

What they wanted to hear

...................

.........Let them pass through here

Let them pass through here

I hope they pass through here

Pray that they pass through here

***

Niman Kachina

I sing a new song

The Plan of Creation

Can’t be wrong

Pahana will come when Soyal is done

When we bring in the new year

When we turn back the Sun

We’ll plant the seed for the new year

Together as one
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 130

About one hundred years after Columbus arrived, the Spaniards decided to colonize the

upper Rio Grande Valley. Juan Onate won the governorship and marched his soldiers and

colonists north from Mexico City, and simply claimed New Mexico for Spain. Kind of

like gang warfare. Juan announced that the new kids were the toughest kids on the block

and so the land was theirs. If anybody didn’t like it, they could go screw themselves.

What’s that you say? Thou shall not steal? Land ownership has always been kind of

fuzzy for me. How can anybody really claim to own the land when the land has been here

for a zillion years before us and will be here a zillion years after we’re gone? If anything,

the land owns us and lets us live here for a few years. Life is a gift. Perhaps we should try

to solve the mysteries of our own awareness instead of worrying about what the next guy

thinks he owns.

Once again, a nod goes out to Paul Horgan for the following song.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 131

Vista Bonita 1599

Oh, New Mexico

Oh, oh, New Mexico

Vista bonita in the morning light

North desert glowing, an artists delight

Smoke curling over the Upper Valley

Crisp winter air, not a hint of a breeze

Vista bonita in New Mexico

Oh, what a pretty sight from

San Juan Pueblo

A sad spirit has entered my North Kingdom

On a mesa to the west, rebellion has come

I was forced to send my soldiers out to Acoma

Only seventy of us against two thousand of them

But we’ve held communion and the Requiem Mass

And Saint James of Compostela aides us in our task

To quell the revolt we must show a firm hand


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 132

My nephew Zaldivar rides hard in command

Oh, New Mexico

Oh, oh, New Mexico

Vista bonita in the mid day sun

Chameleon colors on all horizons

Crimson in the mountains, a deep blue sky

Deer on the slopes, an eagle in flight

Vista bonita in New Mexico

Oh, what a pretty sight from

San Juan Pueblo

These valley Indians are wretched and poor

And they don’t appear to desire much more

They vacated this pueblo to give us a home

Gave us blankets and corn, that’s all that they owned

Yet, I’ve spent my whole fortune to be Governor

Now I’m counting on pearls from the South Sea shore

Discover Quivira, we’ll find treasures of gold

More riches than Cortez found in old Mexico!

Oh, New Mexico

Oh, oh, New Mexico


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 133

Vista bonita in the evening glow

Sangre de Cristo shivers in snow

Shadows creep down from the western heights

Rio Bravo del Norte, a sliver of light

Vista bonita in New Mexico

Oh, what a pretty sight from

San Juan Pueblo

An old Indian woman unsettles my soul

She tells me of the fury out in Acoma

The rage of the Indians, brave soldiers with swords

Three days of bitter fighting, the horrors of war

Oh, what was that she said, a vision on high?

The Acomese laid down their arms, no more must die

And I wonder how she knows what cannot be known

It will surely be ten days before word can reach home

Oh, New Mexico

Vista bonita in New Mexico


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 134

All right. You might want to get your Google machines cranked up for this one. In 1629 a

nun of the Franciscan order lived on the border of Aragon and Castile in Spain. She never

left the nunnery, probably for her entire life. But Indians in eastern New Mexico and in

the Texas panhandle and further south below the Conchos River reported seeing her.

They would go to the missions on the Rio Grand and ask the Friars to be baptized. They

said Maria de Agreda had sent them, and described this woman. One time she even

accompanied them to San Felipe Pueblo. When the Friars asked the Indians to step

forward, she pushed them from behind, a ripple effect through the crowd. This was 1629.

Travel time was slow. I mean, it made “a slow boat to China” seem like a jet airplane.

What gives? Tomorrow might bring an explanation. Or it might bring a lot of imaginative

bull.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 135

Maria de Agreda 1629

Maria de Agreda did you set the tone

Over three and a half centuries ago?

Sitting at home in your convent in Spain

No one ever saw you leave your door

How was it that you could make yourself appear

Half a world away in New Mexico?

Half a world away in New Mexico

Mother Maria de Jesus

Could you maintain your dreams

And incorporate them into reality?

To the Llano Estacado from Castile

You found the key to your mystery

You could project your feelings, manifest yourself

Humano Indians thought you were real

Humano Indians thought you were real

Performing missionary service


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 136

On the plains

Send the Humanos to the Friars

On the Rio Grand

Assist Fray Cristobal

With baptismal rites

San Felipe Pueblo, 1629

Did you see that those people

Lived closer to God

Than the Europeans

Outside your convent

Maria de Agreda did you glimpse the truth?

Could you see through the dogma of your Christian church?

In our dreams we are so much closer to God

Than reason will allow in waking hours

You’d gather your attention and transport yourself

To the Nuevo Mundo or the Orient

To the Nuevo Mundo or the Orient

Mother Maria de Jesus

Could you maintain your dreams

And incorporate them into reality?


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 137

To south of the Conchos from Castile

You found the key to your mystery

You could project your feelings, manifest yourself

Los Juntos Indians thought you were real

Los Juntos Indians thought you were real


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 138

So. How did Maria do it? I have a feeling I’m going to get two possible answers here. For

those of you who have really been reading these things, you’re probably going to say she

grabbed hold of one of the lines and was whisked away. A couple of you might say that it

was simply and surely by the will and grace of God. Of course, you know that this is a

trick question, and I don’t buy either one of those answers. If she had disappeared bodily

from the convent, I would go along with the line theory. But whenever a nun, (or, heaven

forbid, a Friar) would look in on her, she’d be asleep in her bed. She never left the

convent. That would also pretty much blot out answer number two.

But we have also heard tell of something called “walking the sky.” This is akin to the out

of body experience, where one looks down on himself sleeping or laying in a hospital

bed. It is an ability that can be cultivated. Awareness splits and exists in two places at the

same time. If a person can learn to maintain the sequences of his dreams while at the
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 139

same time dreaming of the real world in real time, instead of dreaming about the usual

gobbly-gook, there’s no telling what all a person could be capable of doing. It’s all very

simple, really.

FLIPSIDE

Chapter 20

He stood outside the tent, fully intending to urinate. Nothing was happening, and he

decided to give it more time. Overall, he felt physically strange, light and light-headed,

and he passed it off to having imbibed more than his share.

The night was very still except for the sound of a faint, but howling wind further down

the valley. It was coming his way, approaching slowly for something that sounded so

forceful. When it finally arrived, it hit with short, strong gusts that increased to a steady,

hard blow before passing quickly. The chirping of crickets and the barking of tree frogs

once again became the dominant sounds.

He gazed around the campsite. His vision had adjusted remarkably to the night and he

could see everything clearly. Paul was rolled up inside his tent. Richard was sleeping

soundly in the back of the pick-up truck. He was either very drunk or the intermittent

wind was keeping the mosquitoes at bay.


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 140

He thought about his own tent and realized that he hadn’t zipped it shut. The mosquitoes

would eat Bonnie alive! He put his penis back into his pants and then knelt to zip the tent.

To his surprise, it was already tightly closed. He looked inside to check on her.

He was aghast. There HE was lying beside Bonnie! Sound asleep!

The observation overwhelmed his sense of reason. He fell backwards, shocked by the

duality that confronted him. Up until that moment he had assumed that his thoughts were

originating from within his “dreaming” body. But there he was, obviously sleeping next

to Bonnie. As he struggled with the anomalies, he found himself beginning to panic.

Don’t think! Deal with it later!

Who said that? He wondered.

Deal with it later!

The command seemed to come from an outside source within him. But it was sound

advice. He knew that if he became overly agitated he would soon lose the continuity of

his dream. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder. Seeing himself sleeping there was a

shocking way to realize that he was in fact dreaming. Everything seemed so real! He

rubbed his hands together. They sure felt solid to him!


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 141

The wind gusted once again and then moved on. Upon its’ tail came the hoot of an owl,

brilliantly melodious. The magical sound resonated within him. When he heard it again

he knew that the owl’s call was meant for him alone.

He moved to the next campsite and sat down on top of the picnic table. He waited to hear

from the owl once again. The wind had changed to a light, steady breeze, and he listened

to the rustling branches as he watched their shadowy motion against the starlit sky. Time

passed. An armadillo came close, rooting and snorting. He forgot about the owl and

jumped down from the picnic table.

The picnic table!

Thinking of Paul and Richard, he grabbed hold of the end of the table and pulled. It

moved easily.

“Why those lazy bums,” he said out loud. “Too heavy to move. What a poor, sorry

excuse!”

He turned his back to the table, reached back with both hands, and proceeded to drag the

table behind him. He soon noticed a loud, rumbling sound, and the first thought that came

to mind was “avalanche.”


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 142

He stopped to listen more intently, but the thunder had passed. He heard nothing but tree

frogs and crickets, the wind and the river. He was perplexed. Surely he hadn’t imagined

that sound.

He started forward with the table once again. Once again the mountains rumbled.

Shit! It struck him. The sound he heard was the dragging of the table! Outrageous! He

was probably waking every camper along the river. Suddenly feeling very self conscious,

he glanced over at the campsite.

Richard was sitting up in the back of the truck, looking around. Daylight was beginning

to creep into the darkness and a foggy haze covered the ground.

Not wanting to be seen by Richard, Credit decided to climb the bluff and enter the

campsite from the opposite direction. But after entering the woods, he began moving

through the trees much faster than intended, much too fast for safety. But there was

nothing he could do to prevent it! For some reason, he had totally lost control over his

muscles.

He bounced off a tree.

Damn, that hurt! He grabbed at his left arm and then bounced off another tree. Incapable

of stopping his momentum, he lost his balance and fell.


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 143

Everyone has heard of the American Revolution and Independence while few have heard

of the Pueblo independence. It is probably because their freedom only lasted about twelve

years. One reason it had been so easy for the Spaniards to colonize the American

Southwest was that the pueblos were individual entities. Attack one and the others did not

come to their aid. They pretty much just tolerated each other. Most of them even spoke

different languages. But after years of humiliation at the hands of the Spaniards, Pope

(pronounced Po-pay) changed things. He arranged to have all the pueblos act together at

the same time and they succeeded in running the Spaniards out of New Mexico and

northern Arizona.

But 80 years of Spanish domination had changed the pueblos forever, and independence

did not last long. The whole dynamic of the area had changed. Apaches, Comanche, and

Navajos, groups that were not there a hundred years earlier, were beginning to encroach
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 144

on the pueblos, and life would never again be the same. That’s just the way it goes, not

only in the American Southwest but all over the world. I used to feel really bad about

what happened to the American Indians, but the peoples of the world have always been in

a state of flux and always will be. You can build fences or make new immigration laws

and it’s not going to make a lick of difference. People are still going to be on the move.

Borders are only rigid on the map. And in some people’s thick skull.

Pope 1680

Moctezuma came to me in my dream one night

I was in the stockade; they had me bound up tight

All the things we had done for two thousand years

Were suddenly a crime, but you won’t see no tears

He said go up to Taos, then down into the kiva

The slave church ain’t for you or none of your people

These white men aren’t gods, they’re only Castillians

They bend you to your will, their intentions are evil

They’re dogadee, the dictator

Dogadee the dictator, come to take your land


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 145

Katchada ain’t no white friend, can’t you understand?

Katchada is the dictator, come to claim the land

Now do I have to remind you of Hawikuh?

Or Kuaua, or Pecos, or Acoma?

They kill us, they whip us, treat our women with shame

Make us build their church, won’t let us dance for rain

He said go up to Taos, then down into the kiva

To Hell with the Friars, we’re about to get even

We’ll chase all the metal-men out of the valley

Return to our old ways, we were peaceful and happy

They’re dogadee, the dictator

Dogadee the dictator, come to steal the land

Katchada ain’t no white friend, can’t you understand?

Katchada is the white man, come to take the land

There is power up in Taos we can all believe in

I spoke with three kachinas from Po-he-yema

Spirits Caudi and Tolini and Tleume, too


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 146

Say if the pueblos join together peace will follow soon

So rise up in Taos, a whirlwind from the kivas

We’re going down to Santa Fe; we’re going to get even

We’ll overthrow the Governor and kill all the Friars

They deceiver us with their words, they’re nothing but liars

They’re dogadee, the dictator

Dogadee the dictator, come to take the land

Katchada ain’t Pahana, can’t you understand?

He’s dogadee the dictator, come to rape the land


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 147

This one has a snappy little tune to it. If you break out in a song and dance routine, don’t

be embarrassed. Smile! No one will care. It happens all the time!

Have a great Fourth of July!

Liberty Tree 1777

Colony

Majesty

No allegiance for His Majesty


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 148

Destiny

Liberty

We are the Sons of Liberty

I’m a freeman, a citizen American

A Massachusetts Bay Colony minuteman

I was trusted to my musket up at Lexington

Fought the British at Breed’s Hill

And served with Washington

And we’re fighting for the rights of all free men

We’re fighting for the spirit of Independence

We’ve got a dream, it’s such a fine dream

Religious toleration and equality

Celebrate the Revolution!

Throw a tea party

While we dance all around the Liberty Tree

Take my hand, we’ll do a step, we’re the Liberty Tree

We’re going to throw the English yoke from off of our backs

Chase them out of Nova Scotia, run them out of Quebec

We’ve had enough of the tea tax from those lobsterbacks


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 149

Hamilton

Ben Franklin

Unite the States in federation!

Jefferson

Washington

We’re bound to be a great nation!

I’m a freeman, a citizen American

One of Morgan’s West Virginia riflemen

And I’ve marveled at the splendor

Of this fine scenery

From Ticonderoga down through the Jersey’s

And we’re fighting for the rights of our countrymen

We’re fighting for the freedom of our continent

Because we’ve got a dream, such a fine dream

This song bursts from my heart with sincerity

Celebrate the Revolution

Throw a tea party!

While we dance all around the Liberty Tree

Take my hand, we’ll do a step, we’re the Liberty Tree


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 150

We’re going to run the Tory presence out of here

I’ve got a wife and kids at home and land to clear

We can turn our attention to the Western frontier


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 151

Part 3

It’s time for me to climb a little bit higher in my pulpit. I know it’s what you’ve been

waiting for. I’ll thump my chest for a few songs and then finish up with the rest of

Pahana’s adventure.

Scenario: An INS agent is standing at the Maine/New Brunswick border, out in the

woods, awed by the splendor and solitude, when a moose strolls out of Canada, crossing

into Maine. Does the agent stop the moose and send it back into Canada?
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 152

Summer has faded and geese in the Canadian north are gathering up for the long flight

south. Does the US Air Force scramble the jets in Minot, North Dakota and try to keep

the geese from heading for the Gulf of Mexico?

The answer is obvious; the freedom of the animals is not restricted. But people without

the proper papers would be turned away. It kind of begs the questions: Is a man not more

than a moose? And with due respect, is a woman not more than a goose?

This song is another one from my angry days, when I didn’t like what governments do to

people. I still don’t, but now I know there’s not much I can do about it.

Between The Lines

What do you do when you register to vote?

Tell me, what do you lose when you go cast that vote?

You give away a right to make decisions on your own

You give it to some jokers you don’t even know

What do you do when you go out and vote?


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 153

Tell me, what do you lose when you go cast that vote?

It don’t matter who’s the winner or who does the losing

You accept the consequences; you’ve done your choosing

What do you do with your responsibilities?

You give them to some jokers who

Might send you overseas

Send you off to Africa to bomb the dirty Libyans

Or down to Managua, crush the Nicaraguans

Nationalism is here and there

Dividing the globe, it is everywhere

Some hundred different countries

Some hundred different ways

And everybody’s right, now what does that say?

Stand on the moon, you don’t need no spacecraft

Gaze down on the Earth, you will get a good laugh

All those little people running ‘round, looking like ants

Thinking everything they do is so important

They perpetuate ideas that have come before

Perpetuate the evils that have come before

They’re stockpiling weapons, gonna be another war


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 154

Stockpiling weapons, we’ve seen it all before

What will you do when the man comes for you?

You’ve given up your rights; he’s going to ship you overseas

‘Cause when you voted you gave away your responsibilities

It won’t be Viet Nam, but it may be Africa

The Middle East, South Korea, or Guatemala

When the man comes to take you, you can’t say “no”

The majority is always right, that’s what you’ve done chose

What does it take to read between the lines?

Tell me, what does it take to see between the lines?

Can you see through the horse shit that your government spouts?

Can you see through the dogma that the churches give out

What does it take to read between the lines?

Tell me, what does it take to see between the lines?

If you feel it in your heart, can you redirect your life?

No society is ever right, follow your mind

What does it take to read between the lines?

Tell me, what does it take to see between the lines?


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 155

Ouch! Cliché city!

The Right Thing

There’s been talk about the lack of morality

A serious erosion of honor and integrity

But you can learn to live responsibly

If you keep your motives pure you will do the right thing

Do the right thing!

We’ve been planning all these covert activities


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 156

Hiding behind reasons of national security

But to choose between country or global needs

Now would you be willing to do the right thing?

Do the right thing!

Now anything goes with deniability

Do you teach your children to lie creditably?

Apply it to your country as your family

Now would you be willing to do the right thing?

Do the right thing!

We keep producing foul emissions in our factories

Cutting down rain forests to satisfy our greed

Can you choose between money and the ecology?

Would you be willing to do the right thing?

Do the right thing!

Does your conscience ever bother you?

All those nasty things we do, man we can be cruel

If the choice is between money or honesty

Would you be willing to do the right thing?

Do the right thing!


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 157

Now indecision is gnawing at you

Driving you crazy, you don’t know what to do

Free yourself from all your selfish tendencies

Keep your motives pure and you will do the right thing

Do the right thing!

If you love the Earth good luck will follow you

Treat Her like yourself, that’s the least you can do

It’s up to you to live responsibly

Pay attention to the Earth and you will do the right thing

Do the right thing!


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 158

I swear; if you don’t already, you’re all going to think I’m just crazier than Hell before

this thing is all over with.

Voyager

Our technology has made a rapid advance

Instant communication throughout the land

First voyage ‘round the world took nearly three years

Now we’ve got it down to hours, everywhere is quite near

Look to the sky, it’s our last frontier


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 159

Bases on the moon, we can see that quite clear

A journey to Mars and we’re talking many years

Given the time and money, it’s not out of our sphere

Voyager, number Two has followed you

Through the asteroids and on to Jupiter’s moons

Computer enhanced photographs that we see

Turn all our speculations ‘to reality

Voyager there’s so much you can do

Journey to the planets and show us the view

Braided rings around Saturn, new Uranian moons

More mystery to show us when you whip past Neptune

Earth floats in orbit around the Sun

One small planet in our solar system

In a swirl of the galaxy, the Milky Way

The Sun’s one tiny member of a vast array

Inter-galactic travel is a big dream

The Andromeda galaxy will never be reached

Time/distance concepts our clouding our view


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 160

More knowledge of ourselves may change our attitude

Voyager, take us on out past Mars

Through the solar system then out to the stars

If you could cross the universe you could be our eyes

Transmit to us the wonders we cannot visualize

Voyager head into interstellar space

Racing toward the edge of the Milky Way

Crossing kilo-parsecs for thousands of years

There’s got to be a better way to get there from here

Would it be far-fetched

To think that spirit is a light?

An inkling, or a feeling, or a piece of the sun?

Would it be far-fetched

To seek completeness in our life?

If the Earth is our body then our spirit’s the sun

Would it be far-fetched

To think we have two sides?


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 161

Here or there, one or both, the choice is your own

Could you ever imagine

That perception lines both sides?

Close your eyes, you’re there and back, quick as a thought

Voyager there’s so much you can do

Journey to the planets and show us the view

I could get there and back much quicker than you

But I wouldn’t be able to share my view with you

Voyager head into interstellar space

Racing towards the edge of the Milky Way

Crossing kilo-parsecs for thousands of years

There’s got to be a better way to get there from here

Voyager there’s so much you can do

Journey to the planets and show us the view

Braided rings around Saturn, new Uranian moons

More mystery to show us when you whip past Neptune


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 162

Lemmings

Coming to a crossroads, approaching it fast

There are decisions to be made if we hope to last

Nuclear disaster, environmental ruin

The problems that we face

Are all our own doings

Running like lemmings straight for the sea

Go meekly to your death or seek to be free

It’s hard to break momentum and step out of line

It’s a lonely road to walk


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 163

If you want to seek life

But you’d better start right now

because we haven’t much time

And that opening to life

is so very hard to find

But if you free yourself

from the clutter and diversions

And choose to observe the Earth

and all of its patterns

Catch the flow of the life-force

and make it your own

For this Earth is your mother

your teacher, your home

Christ spoke to the masses in parables

He knew we wouldn’t listen, that’s the way it goes

To have ears but not hear, to look but not see

Surely limits the scope

Of what a man can be


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 164

A hard and narrow path leads to life

While the road to destruction is easy and wide

But if you think clear, remove the log from your eye

Seek and you will find

The opening to life

And you can walk the sky

if you see how to do it

Or you can walk on water

if you learn the secret to it

But you have to start right now

because we haven’t much time

And that opening to life

is so very hard to find

And don’t look for agreements

from others than you

That path is for you alone

it’s deep within you

Running like lemmings straight for the sea

On their wide, easy road, it’s the majority


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 165

It’s so hard to break momentum and step out of line

It’s a lonesome road to walk

If you want to seek life

Coming to a crossroads, approaching it fast

Extinction of species with loss of habitat

Nuclear disaster, environmental ruin

The problems that we’ve made

Are all our own choosing

But we have to change right now

because we haven’t much time

And that opening to life

is so very hard to find

But I’m familiar with the history

of human events

And I’m not at all impressed

with all the selfish intent

So I’ve developed little faith

in the masses direction

They’ll continue to bleed the Earth

to feed their self-reflections


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 166

But we have to stop right now

if we want to save ourselves

Or the Earth will strike back at us

to balance itself

Coming to a crossroads, approaching it fast


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 167

At one time this was my favorite song. But now I sometimes read it over and think there

are way too many abstractions and generalities. What do you think?

It’s up to each of us to solve the mystery of awareness. What else are we here for? To try

to get rich and then die? Nah.

Life

Life is a gift

You never asked for it


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 168

It’s a journey in time

A mountain to climb

Laws to be observed

Lessons to be learned

And the goal seems clear

It’s to reach the peak

It’s to stretch your strand of time

Into eternity

Life is a gift

You never asked for it

So you know you’re not the master

Over other forms of it

You’re a being of perception

You feel a physical world

You can sense all of its aspects

You’re rich and diverse

But you’re an equal member

On this good Earth

You’re just an equal member

Of the universe

Life is a gift
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 169

What do you do with it?

Do you increase your inventory?

Add to your stress and worry?

Accumulate possessions

Along your road?

Claim everything you desire

For you own?

But it’s so hard to climb the mountain

With such a heavy load

It will drag you down and wear you out

And keep you from your goal

Life is a gift

And you’ve only one chance

Time becomes your enemy

As Time has been your friend

Will you have the time to make it

All the way to the top?

Will you revel in the total view

Before you must stop?

When will Death catch you

And give you His tap?

Can you gather your awareness


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 170

To evade that trap?

Life is a gift

And that’s your only gift

So don’t spend all your time

Living only half of it

Don’t lose your attention

In box canyons

Don’t get caught in backwater

Beached on the sand

Seek the road to freedom

It’s your path to the peak

And you can be a witness

To life’s mysteries

Life is a gift

Meaningful and rich

And the ultimate achievement

Is there for your grasp

If you can ease past distraction

And solve the maze up your hill

And balance your perception

With reason and will


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 171

Your two sides of awareness

Will merge at the peak

If you can exercise them both

It will make you complete

Life is a gift

You never asked for it

It’s a journey in time

A mountain to climb

Laws to be observed

Lessons to be learned

And your goal seems clear

It’s to reach the peak

It’s to stretch your strand of time

Into eternity
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 172

The next three songs are about Pahana leaving for the East. They go hand in hand with

Time to Go and Legacy. Legends fits in between the two. The myth states that if Pahana

stops to rest more than twice on his way, it would take ages instead of years for him to

return. He has yet to return, so he must have decided to take a vacation or two along the

way. Meanwhile, the Hopi continue to wait, believing that some day the true Pahana will,

indeed, return, and their Creation tablet will once again be made whole.

Legends 1388 BC

Legends say that on his way

As an eagle he flew proud and high


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 173

Swift as lightning across the sky

But we believe he traveled as a man

He loved this Earth and kept his form

Brought life to our springs, gave us corn

Thunderstorms drove him down from the North

Then a dust devil led him straight to us

His heart and the land told him what to do

He decided to stay and help us through

For seven moons he taught us prayer

And showed us how to be aware of this Earth

And we think he made a sacrifice

He gave up something dear

He was full of life but sad inside

He left something unsaid, never made it clear

He drew his power from the Earth and Sun

It drained him dearly to see this deed done

When he planted four kernels in the ground

Grew it up and then passed it around


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 174

It was black and yellow, white and red

And for several weeks it kept us fed

Corn is the mother of this Fourth World

Four winds, four directions, four colors of men

Corn feeds the spirit that makes us one

Keeps us in touch with our Father Sun

He told us this with a glint in his eye

And then grinned and laughed and slapped his thigh

And we think he made a sacrifice

He gave up something dear

He was full of life but sad inside

He left something unsaid, never made it clear

He said we could be what we wanted to be

A cloud or a snake or a brother coyote

But even in sorcery there were boundaries

The spirit could trap you, never let you free

Then some swear he turned into a bird of prey

Flew to the mountains, then walked back the next day


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 175

Legends say that on his way

He ran fast and graceful as a deer

Fleet of foot, he’d soon disappear

But we know he left us as a man

Pure of heart but pale of skin

He was one of us, much more than friend

And we think he made a sacrifice

He gave up something dear

He was full of life but sad inside

He left something unsaid, never made it clear


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 176

I originally put this song in as filler, and it shows. It is no longer needed. I guess my logic

here was that a woman is usually to blame for just about everything that goes wrong, so I

had to have a song like this. My girlfriend at the time must have made me do it.

Silver Shadow 1387 BC

He took an East Texas holiday

He took the time to get way in deep

Beneath the pines

Feel the dream lift from his eyes


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 177

Silver Shadow, pretty one

You cast your spell on him

Beckoning eyes won’t let him be

His thoughts are on you

They’re not running free

Silver Shadow, pretty one

A magic smile drives him mad

Makes him lose his head

Leaves his common sense for dead

He’s got to stop to catch his breath

Silver Shadow, pretty one

You’re soft and warm and all alone

And give him notions he hasn’t had before

He thinks that he will spend the night

Warm, moist love will do him right

Morning time was time to go

He passed the deer and armadillo

As he made his way for the coast

Using powers he hadn’t yet lost


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 178

Originally, the song that followed this one was Halfway to Karnak, but we’ve already

been there and done that. The last four songs in Long Road will deal with the return of

Pahana.

I hear a collective sigh of relief from a captive audience. I’ve managed to drag this out

over so many months that it’s going to feel like the end of an era. Since all of you have

been forced to read these things, you will probably feel like you’re finally being released

from Gitmo.

Got The Devil In Me 1386 BC


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 179

I stopped once too often, took too long

The devil soon was at my back

He drew up his pact and slipped right in

Now I’ve got the devil in me

There may be more than one

It seems that demons pull from deep inside

When they used to chase me from behind

They’d torment me then run and hide

Leave me free but empty and dry

I stopped once too often, took too long

There were demons crawling over me

Each sought out an opening and crept right in

Now I guess I’ve got the time

To take my rest, try to ease my mind

Because I can’t seem to find the rhyme

Events are muddled; they’re all out of line


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 180

It’s such a heavy mist, won’t let me see

Must grope my way to reality

Seems there’s something to remember

That’s eluding me

Been baked and blistered on the run

By those damned old demons from the sun

They parch my mind, keep me alone

And leave me hateful, decrepit, forlorn

I believe the devil has found his home

I try and try, make no mistake

But I can’t recall which roads to take

Damn those demons, my life decays

I wish they’d leave me, they could go away

I stopped once too often, took too long

The devil soon was at my back

He drew up his pact and slipped right in

Been climbing and crawling from dusk ‘til dawn


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 181

Got swept down the river in a raging storm

My body’s aching; wish I’d never been born

The land must hate me to treat me like such

Don’t believe I’ll be able to love her much

Won’t let me remember where I’ve been

It’s cold and wet and unforgiving

And it’s left me bewildered when I look within

But here I stand; the sea is at my feet

I know there’s someone over there who I must meet


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 182

This song was written for two of the better friends I’ve managed to make in this life and

it was never intended to be part of Long Road. But, you know, it fits in a way, and so

here it is. The verse on fishing seems to be way out of line, but here’s the scenario. Don

and I are sitting in a bass boat on Caballo Lake. It’s an absolutely beautiful day, a little

bit hot, but there’s a little breeze that makes it feel just fine. Suddenly, out of the blue,

lightning strikes the mountainside, shattering the rock, which goes flying into the air. As

Don pulls me back into the boat with my soiled pants, he notices a distinguished piece of

rock that has landed in the boat. It turns out to be the corner piece from the Hopi Creation

tablet. He takes it back to Oraibi and all the Hopi women surround him and rub up

against him and won’t let him be. This is the way things sometimes happen. When you’re

least expecting it—boom! So here is Don and Jeanne’s song.


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 183

Good Friends

Got a friend

Got some good friends

Living down on the Rio Grand

Got a good friend

Got some good friends

On the Rio Grand

There’s a West Texas desert

Forever spread

In front of me

Fried an egg in the sun

On the hood of my truck

This morning

West Texas devil sun

Beating down on me

Got a friend

Got some good friends

Living down on the Rio Grand

Got a good friend


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 184

Got some good friends

On the Rio Grand

It’s the Spring of the year

And there’s fresh water

In the Rio Grand

The spawn of the white bass

And they’re swimming

Up the Rio Grand

A fisherman’s dream there

Heading for the Rio Grand

Got a friend

Got some good friends

Living down on the Rio Grand

Got a good friend

Got some good friends

On the Rio Grand

Got a home

Got a place to go to

Heading for the Rio Grand

Gee, it’s good to know


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 185

I’m heading for the Rio Grand


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 186

This was the very first song written in the Long Road series. It kind of inspired the whole

thing. This is the song you all have to blame for this mess.

Just a note, rub, rub. If you find a cottonwood tree growing in the desert, you will find

standing water, or a damn good irrigation system. If the weather’s been overly dry, just

dig down a foot or two and water will most likely trickle into the hole.

This Desert

I’ve been walking this desert

The ground is hard, it’s hot and bright


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 187

Hurts the eyes and the waterhole’s dry

But there are plants all around

They’re green and growing

There must be water nearby

Must be water nearby

I’ve been crossing this desert

It’s a pretty sight to see for miles

Those mesas don’t look real

Here’s silverleaf and prickly-pear

And there’s gotta be water near

There’s got to be water near

I’ve been walking this desert

Trying to cross this land

The plants are disappearing

As the ground’s turned soft to sand

If I reach those mesas

I’ll be doing fine

There are people there to help me out

But it’s getting harder all the time

Getting harder all the time

I’m getting weaker all the time


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 188

Wind, please be my friend

This blowing sand stings my skin

Makes it hard to swallow

A nice cool breeze or a little rain

Would put me on my way again

I know, I can’t complain

You do what you do, Lord

And what can I say?

I’m so small a part of all I see

I do believe you know better than me

And what do you think of this life

My old friend, Paul?

Once Father Sun was close to you

Now I wonder what you do

Who and what you may answer to

Do you take this Earth Mother

Keep her near?

Wish her well and hold her dear?

I climbed the crest


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 189

Caught the setting sun

A cottonwood could save my life

But there isn’t one in sight

I see buzzards circling overhead

Waiting on me….

Desert moon will bring me night

Silver stars to cool my plight

And hey, Sam and David, Don and Jeanne

You know you’ve all been real good friends to me

But now Earth Mother calls me

And I fear she’s going to take me

And you may not hear from me again

But if Father Sun saves me

I may see you in your dreams

I’ll wave to you in your dreams

A rabbit caught unaware

I regain my strength

It answers my prayers

Earth Mother’s here to see and feel

Feed me and keep me, I wish her well

Without her I wouldn’t be here


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 190

She will take me when she will

Been crossing this desert

The sun is hot, it’s hot and bright

But it’s a pretty sight to see for miles

Those mesas don’t seem real

Here’s cholla and pitaya and prickly-pear

And there’s gotta be water near

There’s gonna be water near

Going to be water near


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 191

Wrinkled Old Man

Dropped into the arroyo in need of shade

Found a wrinkled old man sitting in a cave

He said he’d been waiting a long time for me

He gave me his gourd so I could drink

I was having trouble with my sight in the shade

He was misty and distorted, starting to fade

He told me to place my faith in his words

“A white man with courage is coming soon


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 192

“Life is more encompassing

Than any of us have

Been led to believe

Red man and white man

Both went wrong

The colors are gone from the corn

Indian put his faith

In Earth and clan

White man wanted to dominate man”

He said awareness is draped in mystery

We all shape our world to fit our needs

We’re a feeling first, a piece of the sun

Our true journey is a spiritual one

“Pahana never was to blame

He knew his return would

Mean the end of the Age

He knew we’d have to

Walk a long, hard road

To remember the completeness

In our soul
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 193

To remember that we need to

Keep open our door”

He told me to mark these words and write them well

When the comet comes there’ll be a story to tell

Then he told me a truth that he had to reveal

The Sierra Tinaja Pinta has a secret to yield

Dropped into the arroyo in need of shade

Found a wrinkled old man sitting in a cave

He told me to place my faith in his words

“A white man with knowledge is coming soon”


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 194

So, is the story of Pahana just a fairytale, or is it a myth that could actually enter into

reality?

Oraibi was founded circa 1306 AD, making it the oldest continuously inhabited site in the

United States. Before settling the three mesas, the Hopi probably came from one or more

of several cliff dwellings in the area; Betatakin, Keet Seel, Inscription House, or Canyon

de Chelly. Before that, they possibly lived at Chaco Canyon. And before then, they were

on their migrations to the four pasos. But none of that really matters. They still cling to

their Creation Tablets, the broken off corner still missing from one of them. They still

wait for the return of Pahana.

And what would happen if Pahana did indeed return? What would be the consequences?
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 195

The Hopi Indians would of course be vindicated for holding onto their age old beliefs,

and the rest of the American Indians would hold their heads a little bit higher as they

stepped along their Road of Life. And one would like to think that there would be a new

spirit of cooperation between not only the white and red man, but amongst all the peoples

of the world. But probably nothing would change. Western man would still want to

dictate to the rest of the world.

In a few years, a very special event is about to occur, something that has not happened for

over 5120 years. The present Mayan Age that began August 11, 3114 BC will come to an

end and a new one will begin. No doubt we will be swamped with all sorts of dire

predictions and doomsday scenarios. My own belief is that the day will come and go just

like any other day there’s ever been. A few more than usual Mayan Indians may wake up

with a hangover. I might wake up with one myself. But that’s just the way it goes.

Nothing will really change.

But it will be a very poetic transition. There is a dark belt in the Milky Way where there

are no stars. Our scientists tell us that cosmic dust blocks out the starlight. The Mayans

call this the Tree of Life, and it is a very sacred symbol in their cosmology. On December

21, 2012, the Milky Way will be positioned in just such a way that when the sun rises that

day, it will climb up the Tree of Life, and the new Age will begin. This date coincides

with the annual Soyal ceremony of the Hopi.


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 196

Just as most of the people of Mesaamerica shared the common myth of the returning

white man, the Pahana, or Quetzalcoatl, or Kukulcan, so did all the peoples of

Mesoamerica share the Mayan calendar. What better time for Pahana to return than at the

beginning of the New Age?

Bernalillo is a town just north of Albuquerque on the Rio Grande. Kuaua is the pueblo

just outside of town that Coronado commandeered to house his soldiers in during the

winter of 1540-1. It is now Coronado State Park.

Bernalillo

He may meet you at Bernalillo

From Kuaua he’ll guide you home

He knows that old Indian is west of there

In the middle of Third Mesa

By a juniper

With a smile and a grasp and a

Pat on the back

He’ll give him the stone that fits the tablet

Come down from the forests


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 197

As a mountain lion

Fly to the mesas as mongwau the owl

Grandmother Spider keeps the web

She’s going to let a little magic

Return to the land

You may meet him at Bernalillo

From Kuaua he’ll guide you home

The way is still long but it will make you strong

It will touch your soul

And it’ll make you grow

The Bible only told half the story

The joining of two faiths

Makes it complete

If you feel there’s a reason

We feel right and wrong

If you feel that there’s more to life

Than what you’ve been taught

He may meet you at Bernalillo

From Kuaua he’ll guide you home

He knows that old Hopi is west of there

In the middle of Third Mesa


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 198

By a juniper

With a smile and a grasp and a

Pat on the back

He’ll give him the stone that fits the tablet

Come down from the forests

As a mountain lion

Fly to the mesas as mongwau the owl

Grandmother Spider keeps the web

She’s going to let a little magic

Return to the land


Scott/The Songs From Long Road 199

Epilogue

So that’s it. That’s the end of the Songs from Long Road.

I’m quite proud of some of these songs. Some I’m not so proud of. That’s the way it

goes.

My biggest disappointment is that I wish I could have more fully conveyed the richness

and complexity of pre-Columbian American society, from the pre-ceramic cultures of

Peru on forward. With the coming of corn, the America’s literally blossomed. The

cultures of Mexico were especially diverse. The Olmecs were considered the first

“empire” builders, with centers in highland Mexico, (Chalcatzingo) to the Gulf coast (La
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 200

Venta) to the Guatemalan Pacific coast. But the Mixtecs, Huastecs, and Zapotecs were

not far behind, and the Mayans may have always been there and they certainly surpassed

all of the others with the artistic richness of their pottery, stela and architecture. Some of

their artists are now known. They signed their works. There is one from Yaxchilan and

one from Palenque who would rival Rembrandt and Michelangelo. One reads an awful

lot about the Mayan “collapse.” Anthropologists try to nail down the cause. Hell, the

common people simply got together and ran the rich elites out of there. Who needs some

fat cat telling you how to live your life? Spend all of your time hauling around five ton

blocks of stone to build a residence for one of them and you just can’t live your own life.

You’re too danged tired at the end of the day. And you’ve got mysteries to solve!

Besides, you don’t want to have to worry about having to fight a bunch of wars simply

because the elite rulers got mad at each other. That sounds familiar even today.

Teotihuacan in central Mexico in 200 AD may have been the largest city in the world at

that time. Who were these people? We don’t know. What is known is that they influenced

everybody in Mexico and Guatemala. There were also two large diasporas of Nuhuatl

speaking people, one around 600 AD at the fall of Teotihuacan and another around 1100

AD when Tula of the Toltecs fell. In both instances large populations went to Nicaragua.

In the latter diaspora Toltecs also showed up in the Mississippi cultures and possibly

Chaco Canyon in New Mexico. The Toltecs are probably the most mysterious of the

Mexicans. Even in this day and age they are both feared and revered by the common

people. Yes, all these Indian groups still live in Mexico. Some of you may have visited

Chitzen Itza on the Yucatan Peninsula. The common theory is that Tula influenced
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 201

Mayan Chitzen. I hang with the minority and say it was the other way around. Tula is a

very poor replica.

After the fall of Tula, the Aztecs moved into the Valley of Mexico.

Western Mexico was different from the rest of Mexico because they received heavy

influence from Peru. Peruvians were great sailors. Cocaine even shows up in Egyptian

mummies. I might note that the Aztec were never able to conquer the Tarascans of West

Mexico.

In the northern fringes of Mesoamerica we find the large centers of Paquime in northern

Mexico, along with Chaco Canyon in New Mexico. Later on the cliff dwellings were

built and then the pueblos along the Rio Grand, as well as the Zuni, Acoma, and Hopi

pueblos. All these people may or may not have had similar roots. You can trace down

some of it through language. The Hopi, for example, speak a form of Uto-Aztecan, but

where and when did they diverge from the main group?

South America is just as diverse, if not more so, with cultures running from the coast to

the high Andes; from the Mochi culture to Chavin, to Tiwaniku, to Cuzco and Machu

Pichu, not to mention the tribes of the Amazon. Where did all these people come from?

From the land bridge between Russia and Alaska? Yeah, right. The oldest archaeological

sites are all in South America. That doesn’t mean older ones won’t be found here in

North America. Personally, I think people got here however they could, just like today.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 202

Some swam, some sailed, and some walked a long, hot desert or a hard, cold ice mass

seemingly forever.

Anyway, I see I’m beginning to bore you. If you’re interested, check it out. There are all

kinds of literature on the subject. Just google Amazon. Or google Google.

What I really wanted to say with today’s note is that Sam and I are having a party

tomorrow. I’m sure that by now you’ve all located the power spots near you. You know,

the places where the lines touch the Earth. If you feel like it, just grab one of the lines and

come on over. You’ll touch down behind the house by the creek. If you haven’t been

down there before, just climb the north bank and you’ll soon find the house. The garden’s

done great this year so there will be plenty of food and drink. See you then!

Hope you all have a good one.

And I really do hope you enjoyed the Songs from Long Road.

Wayne and Sam

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