Welcome! You made it!
I’d be grateful if you’d read the whole post because at the end I’ve got something beautiful to share with you.
Today I’m launching the Indiegogo campaign for my documentary The Shopkeeper. Click here learn all about the movie and see the fun rewards we’ve got for you. The pledges start at $1, so please consider putting your support behind a film I’m so excited to be making!
In thanks to you for finding your way to this post, here’s a brand new recording of John Prine’s classic “Angel From Montgomery,” with Martin Young on guitar. Thank you to all 75 people who took the time to send me ideas. With your support, there will be many more songs recorded this month.
And, for fun, here is a video of John Prine talking about his song. OMG: he was thinking of a 47 year old woman when he wrote this? I’m 47! Yikes.
Launching a big crowdfunding campaign is daunting. I’m proud of this movie I’m making and I want to share it with the world. But sometimes you receive something so golden and beautiful, it sustains you through the slog of promotion and marketing and all that other stuff that goes along with getting your art out into the world.
Thank you, so much, for joining with me in this project.I’m grateful for your interest and support.
With permission from the friend who messaged it:
“Rain, I don’t follow your music as much as I ought to. I am hacking out a living here in the Midwest, as a sober, part-time dad, still learning how and what to “be”. As you know, we are FB friends, as our Dad’s were old pals. I’m writing to you here because I wanted to share with you that when your FB post about a cover song came across my news feed, “Angel From Montgomery” was the first and only song I thought of. When I was 9 or 10, my mother sent me from Omaha, NE out to California to live with my Dad. There was this nasty alcoholic divorce happening and she put me on a plane for CA. I’d only met my Dad twice prior. The trip was sold to me by Mom as a summer vacation. I flew by myself and landed in SF airport. There was my Dad with a ponytail and a ZZ Top beard, backpack and tears in his eyes. He did not have a car. We hitchhiked into Marin County (an awesome adventure for me) and arrived at his tiny, funky studio apt. He had a fold out sofa bad, which he gave me, and he took the floor in a sleeping bag. We made a summer of it. Hiking, storytelling, and lots of music. He sang Angel From Montgomery every night. I don’t know if you and your Dad lived in the Bay Area during those years but I recall meeting you and your Dad around that era of my life. Maybe we went down to Ojai. I can’t remember. You were a teenager doing songs in a studio. I thought it was so cool. (At 10 yrs old, everything was an adventure). The end of that summer, my Mom called my Dad, basically asking if he would mind just keeping me. Of course he said yes. He did alot of last minute, impossible getting-it-together stuff to enroll me in school while trying to simultaneously make my transition smooth. Also, the task of picking up the pieces of a child’s heart who’s Mom no longer wanted him. He did his very best to raise me. With no help from me. Still, he taught me how to live and let live, love music, play 1,4,5 progressions on the guitar, and all the sweet and sometimes hard stuff that came with being the child of a true hippie. As I came of age I willingly took on a darker, more self-centered path. What started out as me being 15 and smoking pot while playing the Stones Let it Bleed record on headphones in my bedroom night after night, eventually came: Addiction. Rehabs. Prison. Pain. Repeat. Not a unique story but its mine. All throughout my time with my Dad, “Angel From Montgomery” was the constant. He’d play it regularly through those years. And Rain, trust me when I say he put his all into that song. Every time. Even as a youngster, you know which songs hold more meaning with your Dad by the way he sings them. It could very well be the one song he and I could say is ours. Dad is fighting a losing battle to Parkinson’s and cancer. My situation here affords me limited phone talks with him at best. But we do connect and today he knows I made it to the good side of the street. So thanks for choosing this. I wanted you to know the story behind my vote. Never thought it would make the cut. Blessings to you and your family. Thanks for reading.”