John Schnabel & Friends profile picture

John Schnabel & Friends

About Me

John Schnabel (father), guitar strummer and poetic muse. Micah Schnabel (son), sometimes guitars, sometimes percussion. My friends The Hobos: Ardean - Mandolin, Owedus - banjo; Alwood "Big Woody" guitars and almost 30 years of friendship; Weapon - percussion; and Curtis "wee willie" Henderson on harmonicas.
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My Interests

Music:

Member Since: 09/12/2006
Band Members: John Schnabel and Friends...
Influences: Bob Dylan, John Prine, Johnny Cash, Steve Earle, Tim Easton and any songwriter that writes because it matters...

Sounds Like: The rubber hitting the road...that long road that takes us away but then leads us back again. The sound of generations communicating through the wood and the wires.
Record Label: What's a record?

My Blog

The Sunset Strip

The Sunset StripBy MD Schnabel        The sound of gunfire tap dancing in the mild evening air is nowcommonplace. The smell of gunpowder and salt hangs heavy in the air, butit's constant presence over...
Posted by on Sat, 07 Mar 2009 05:13:00 GMT

The Poor Tree

The Poor TreeBy MD SchnabelThe crowd is getting restless as the lights glow dim. Its time to go on. But maybe, just maybe, Im too old for this. Too old to be standing in the kitchen with my father...
Posted by on Mon, 02 Feb 2009 20:05:00 GMT

A Sheep Amongst the Wolves

 A Sheep Amongst the WolvesBy MD SchnabelHis name is Braddock. My name was Wolf.He was a red-headed kid born out in the suburbs of a mid-sized metropolis that never bore any curiosity to him. And why ...
Posted by on Mon, 02 Feb 2009 19:34:00 GMT

My Presidential Speech

     Well, the day is finally here. After eight incredibly long years full of lies from the mouths of those who have grown accustomed to the taste of greed and corruption, we finally have a man who se...
Posted by on Mon, 02 Feb 2009 19:32:00 GMT

The Aging Catholic

"Son of Man" By Matthew Schnabel The smell of mass. Cheap burning candles and rich incense fills the air. This is my real fear. The huddled children cannot be trusted. Thrust into pews of hard wood, t...
Posted by on Sun, 03 Jun 2007 06:19:00 GMT

Four Quarters Saint

                                     &...
Posted by on Sat, 10 Mar 2007 10:22:00 GMT

In Memory of Mike Redelson - "Thanks" Mike

  HOBO JUNGLE -- Trying to top the noise of a passing freight train, the band of hobo musicians belted out a train song. Cledus spoke dirty in Hawaiian as Big Ditch kept the steady bass beat. Au...
Posted by on Sun, 11 Feb 2007 08:37:00 GMT

The Terrorist of Kirkpatrick, Ohio

"The Terrorist of Kirkpatrick, Ohio" By Matthew D. Schnabel There were five in that room and now only two were left alive.              "Look, do...
Posted by on Sun, 11 Feb 2007 05:18:00 GMT

"Letters From A Far Away Place"

The rain. I hate the rain. It feels like the sky has been pissing down cold wet drops of this stuff for the past two weeks. I thought this was why I moved to California in the first place, thought Jam...
Posted by on Thu, 01 Feb 2007 19:52:00 GMT

Grandma's Saturday ( A Child's Vision of War)

Grandma's Saturday "Wake up you two, it's time to get moving" howled the General.   The smell of freshly baked Pillsbury cinnamon rolls rolled up the stairway to our bedroom. My younger sister...
Posted by on Thu, 18 Jan 2007 19:19:00 GMT