In Memorium for TruthTeller

Years ago when I met Truthteller, our beloved friend who passed away this morning), his wife Priestess and another friend of ours who is of the Voudon faith, encountered a really WEIRD ring that Priestess inherited from her grandfather. The ring was...cursed? Haunted? Basically, it wasn't nice. How they got rid of it is a story unto itself. I wrote a ballad about the event...and it gives you a very clear picture of Truthteller and who and what he was at his best.I am including the ballad here...the rythym and rhyme scheme makes sense when you hear the tune. (I did not write the music. Music by Leslie Fish and kudos to anyone who recognizes THAT name!) I don't attest to my song writing abilities, but I do vow and swear that every word is true. I share it in memory of my friend Truthteller. (oh...and the line about Holy ground...there are 3 churches in town that have NO clue about just WHAT is in their adjacent graveyards! ROFL!)

In the song, Priestess is the Witch, the friend, Misbehavin', is the Priestess, and Truthteller is the "Technomage" .


Three’s – The One Ring Version
( A True Story)
Words by Cameron, Music by Leslie Fish


A witch once had an unknown ring
Passed down through years untold.
A legacy of distant shores
From a grandfather grown old.
No one was left alive to date
To tell about this ring.
But the antics it got up to showed
It was no normal thing…
Three things to be wary of:
Strange disciplines unknown,
Anything your cat avoids,
And a weird ring in your home !


The ring was old and different
Marked numbers one through nine.
It’s sigils strange and metal bright
Could not be brought to mind.
It disappeared quite frequently,
Refusing to be found,
Then returned across the miles unknown,
By magic strange unbound…
Three things never trust in:
That which chills you to the bone,
The dark that will not answer,
The inheritance unknown !


What’s worse the ring would whisper soft,
To those quite unaware.
“Put me on,” it would insinuate
“Your finger is quite bare.”
And once upon the finger there,
It then would choose to stay.
As dread crept up the wearer’s spine
At the power on display…
Three things are most dangerous:
Knowledge not in check,
The power of an untrained fool,
And a dark ring with a hex !


The witch decided to confer
With her friend about this ring.
Her friend, a Voodun priestess, was
Unfazed by anything.
But the ring it caught her unaware
And pulled its little act.
Setting off alarms that warned
This was a dark attack…
Three things scream of danger:
The trap that’s set to spring,
Your instincts when they’re sounding,
And the cold waves from this ring !


The two friends knew they faced a fight,
And grimly waded in.
But nothing that they tried or did,
Affected anything.
Baffled by the ring’s dark force,
They looked and this they scryed.
Nine souls there bound in anguish,
Their deep power undenied…
Three things never changing:
Old time’s relentless turns.
The threat of death and taxes,
And the lust for life that burns !


The priestess and the witch sat down,
To try to think this through,
The ring refused to be unmade,
Despite all they could do.
“If a hobbit should come knocking,
”The priestess halfway laughed,
“He can have the ring for all I care,
I’m going out the back!”
Three things are always lasting…
A friend that’s proven true,
A dry sharp sense of humor,
And that good will yet win through !


At that moment came a cheery voice,
“Hello,” they heard it call,
The witch’s husband came on in,
Briefcase and coat and all.
The technomage with computer toys,
Was done with work this week.
All set to play with gadgets now;
Homeward came the geek…
Three things see no ending:
Computer toys galore,
Technologies advancements,
And that he will want one more !


He heard their tale of woe
And then he looked upon the ring.
He got inspired, his eyes shown bright,
“I know what’s just the thing!”
He came back trailing wiring,
And electrodes on the floor.
He dumped this tangle on the ground,
And said “There’s one thing more.”
Three things never fail you:
That reflex in your knee,
The laws of science working,
And a DieHard battery !


He hooked the jumper cables,
To the ring in all its pride.
Diehard stood true and ready,
At the witch and priestess’s side.
Electricity came coursing,
And the ring began to scream.
Battered by this force of which
It had never dreamed…
Three things are always ending:
The night when dawn is past,
The darkest spell when broken,
And this ring’s strange life at last !


The ring is dead and silent now,
Nine souls released at last.
Divided into pieces,
Into Holy ground they’re cast !
The witch’s power freed the souls,
Priestess had its evil blocked,
But the technomage, he saved the day,
He thought outside the box…
Three things here have triumphed,
The priestess in her power,
The witch’s craft and courage,
The technomage’s finest hour !