Testimonial:

After many years of competing corporately in the low lands of the Midwest, our aspirations five years ago for retirement were: peace, tranquility and solitude on top of our wondrous Smokey mountain retreat. Our serenity was interrupted, one late morning by the crunching of boots on our gravel road and an exquisitely nasal East Coast greeting of “Heah, how are ya?” and into our lives that day walked two gifts of creativity and lifelong love: Maureen Mc Donnell and Hugo “The H-Man” Hanson.

After the initial banalities of every day ordinary conversation were competed; I soon realized that H was considerably more nuanced than an ordinary beady eyed CPA. His process of creating my song was a fascinating amalgam of separate interviews with both my daughters, my lady of 48 years, Sheila, various conversations with grandchildren and lengthy hours of listening to my long winded stories. (I applaud your patience). He wove all these disparate threads into a wonderful lyrical tapestry about me. Like a Master sniper his ballad “bullet” pierced my heart. The world is truly better place with you in it; H-Man.

When I first met Pat I could tell there was something special and crazy about him. It wasn’t long before I knew I absolutely had to write his song. He truly has a heart of gold intertwined by a persona that could only be called a Warrior Spirit. He and Sheila have become one of our best friends. 

Warrior Spirit

He drinks cheap wine every day at 5
Smokes his camels alone outside
There’s a knife in sock when he’s shooting pool
His old man sent him away to school

A warrior spirit out in the cold
But inside he’s got a heart of gold 

He wears a red bandanna and needs a shave
Laughs with a howl and won't behave
The stories he tells are hard to believe
They don't end until it’s time to leave 

A warrior spirit he’s a sight to behold
Beneath that look lies a heart of gold

He plays like a boy when the grand kids come
They’re off shootin' rabbits with his bb gun
A hornets’ nest hiding in the old tire swing
Poppy wipes em out as he takes a sting

A warrior spirit can't be controlled
Undercover he’s a heart of gold

He doesn't want your help but he'll give you a hand
Still fighting the war in Vietnam
He raises a glass with a tear in his eye
Toasting his honey he starts to cry

A Warrior spirit never grows old
Under it all, Under it all lies a heat of gold