Half-life of a blogger...It's...



  It’s starting to look like the big whirlwind career as a “monthly blogger” isn’t quiite going in the direction I had originally dreamt.   Nearly a full year’s past, since I sat and typed my ‘chef d’oeuvre’.  Then for some reason, or another, or another, or another.....I jiist aint been  very bloggy...maybe boggy, soggy, and sometimes a lil groggy...but I reckon I just wern’t cut out for the blog life.  I truly apologize... from the bloggom of my heart.

    “Men do change, and change comes like a little wind that ruffles the curtains at dawn, and it comes like the stealthy perfume of wildflowers hidden in the grass.”*

    It’s back to the bog for me.  Where the moss gets lost over fallen logs and gator jaws. Where crickets crick and the creek is mixed. Paddling skiffs through brackish flats in rivers of grass.  Water=Life & it’s fresher in September.  This time of year she’s always higher and riled for wildfire.      
  Back to that sod. Where the grass is green, but not greener than weeds, and not greener than grass that grows down on your street.  Lookin’ lush!  Marshy. Summer in the Glades. The lowland’s under-level.  Black waters mingling into neon forest green flora.  Palms sway.  Coconuts go from green to brown n drop down. In due time, I’m reminded, they’ll  turn again, back to that spirited green hue, to stand up and shoot for the sun!  Bamboos shoot.  Rain falls. Wet gets wetter with even a mention of the hot weather, but the sun still shines and the lion still bellows.    Honestly, I like sunsets.  They’re  honest. They  connect us to the future. They for-tell the oncoming twilight, warning us of labor day soakers and electric light orchestrations in our little back yard.  Gloomy days and lightning always inspire me to “cool out” and spark some creativity.  

   ...Washes the cobwebs off the limbs, the spider survives the storm to weave ‘em agin...Just the whispering of wind, telling stories of where she’s been...

  I hope this ol’ back o’mine stays strong. Made outta mud,muscle & blood, some people say.  I say that “some people” know more than “everybody”, but   everybody knows they’re right.  So you tell me. Tell it like it is. Now really.  I said it. The blogger in me has climbed out the chimney...back to life, back to reality...making music  and trying to fly!

   When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it.**




Blog From The Bog I


First off, I would like to thank all the listeners and readers for your time and interest.  The last few moons have been a doozie!  Many thanks to all the folks that have sent good vibes this direction.  They always help!  Summer rains and sweltering afternoons have moved on for the time being, leaving a lush green countryside, soaked with inspiration.  Now, as the cool snowbird weather is brought down by means of Ohioans, Michiganders, Wisconsinites and New Englanders, I consciously enjoy every breath the good Lord sees fit to bless me with.  Living in remote southern Florida, Paradise found, I am often reminded, life IS great.  The land is great, for better or worse.  The land is ours, as shepherds, to respect and care for.  We all have an opportunity to make it better, an opportunity to make ourselves better.   When we better ourselves, it betters our whole human family.  So, to all my human family, the chance has come for me to start putting this pencil to parchment, and writing to YOU.  Maybe with your help I can begin to make sense of it all.  On that note, this will be the "official" first edition of Gator Nate's Blog From The Bog, so, without wasting any time on introductions, titles, credentials or lack there of...here goes everything.

       Ritual displays of hyper-chromatic, nearly iridescent reds dive and dodge against the vivid greens of the native flora down at the "Compound Swamp".  The colorfully entertaining male cardinals dance and croon for a lone female as she goes on about her morning, yards away on a low hanging strangler fig branch.  The humidity rich salt air eased under the canopy of palm fronds in the backyard, making an early morning session of "stretching & breathing" a breeze.  I notice an overactive squirrel tidying up the mess left by our friendly neighborhood bear, "Theo The Trash Can Bandit", on last night's expedition.  At least he didn't get a hold of the ripe dragon fruit hanging nearby. WILD DRAGON FRUIT!  What a treat!  No swimming pool in my backyard, instead, a fallen log juts up, out of the nearly neon green moss, covering the pond, twenty some turtles of varying sizes and a juvenile alligator are on display for the bright sun's rays this morning.  Blue jays fighting and hollering as the red-tailed hawk sits, eyes peeled, high on the top branch of a cypress.  My (killer-attack) chihuahua must know this, as he usually won't stray more than a few steps away from me.   Today though, he's on the prowl, all the sudden, his nose goes straight up, sniffing intently at the onshore breeze from the gulf, only a few miles away.  He spots the scent...points...AWW, it's just a little bunny rabbit.  He pops out of the brush, gets one good look at Gibson, and before you can say "wascally wabbit", had high-tailed it  across the swamp, and gone!  That thing literally ran across open water.  Granted, it was only six inches deep, but that thing had to be doing 30 knots! My dog's tail wagged with contentment, as he looks up at me and leans in for his obligatory "ear-scratch" payment... for being such a great guard dog, of course!


  Another Halloween in the books.  Our awesome friends and fans came out in full costume, as expected.  The night went off without a hitch.  Unfortunately, on a sadder note, our good buddy and longtime supporter, Joe, who owned and operated South Street-Naples, and provided the Gladezmen with a home-stage for the last six+ years, passed away in his home Monday morning after Halloween weekend.  He was only 43 and left behind two young children.  We intend to carry on Joe's legacy of bringing great entertainment, service and food(best pizza) to the Collier County area for a long time.  Our thoughts and prayers go out to his family.  Please don't wait to tell someone how much they mean to you, as you are only promised today with loved ones.  Tomorrow may never come.  That being said, Mom, Pop, Gina, Willy Matt, Kenny...I love you guys, and thank you for everything.  Let's make some more awesome memories! 

   Love, compassion and kindness brings about true happiness and peace. 

The truth will set you free.  Godspeed.



There's no place I'd rather live.

There's no woman I'd rather love. 

There's no truth I'd rather believe.

There's no me I'd rather be.






   Howdy, how the hell ya holding up? Hope all's well in your neck of the woods...It's seasonally hot here in southern Florida, with a slight chance of winter, humid as the dickens and sometimes it even stops raining, usually late at night, just long enough for the skeeters in the pond to hatch.  I've heard the buzz that's been around all summer, about what is or isn't happening in the Gladezmen camp.  You may ask, "whats been hap'nin down there in that little outpost in southwest Florida?"

So...here it is from a completely unbiased source:  THE HEMP NEWS

 Florida's Amendment TWO is a big, and often controversial issue that has been brought to the 2014 Florida State Electoral ballots by the prominent Orlando lawyer John Morgan, along with a University of Florida Law School professor Jon Mills, and the Everglades based singer-songwriter Gator Nate Augustus.  We have an obligation to the folks of the state (of Florida) that are ill, whether terminal or chronic, they deserve the best treatment.  Marijuana has been tested and proven to be a valuable asset to the health and wellness  of humans.   The laws of the land should be governed by the people in a democracy, and the people have spoken!" Over 700,000 signatures were collected earlier this year, on a petition to bring the issue of medical marijuana to the state legislature.  And all that work has led to this NOVEMBER 4th!!


 The Gator Nate (world-by-way-of-continent-by-way-of-country-by-way-of-state-by-way-of-county-by-way-of-holler domination) project is in full swing, exposing the one-and-only child as a persuasive purveyor in the fine art of multi-instrumentalism, and a master in the magical mechanics of decibel modification.  In layman's terms, buddy been making a symphony of swampy sound goodness.

Go'head and browse around the new web home for all things Gator Nate The Gladezmen.  Thanks in advance for signing the guestbook and we look forward to seeing you at a show soon.

Wanna know whats going to be happening in the Everglades, keep your eyes peeled we might even cross paths up your way soon...

-Want to book GATOR NATE for a venue or a backyard? CLICK HERE!!!





From deep down in the southernmost throws of the continental US, where the frontier not only exists, but lies nearly impenetrable smack-dab along a stretch of highway 41, dubbed the Tamiami Trail, Gator Nate Augustus has been making a peculiarly sweet sounding noise for decades, centuries...possibly since the dawn of time itself.  Swampy, funky, rockin-ass-coon-ass'n country blues hop-a-billy folk-a-punk*.  Or somethin'...Jambalaya!  A lil' a' this...less a' that!  *IT'S ALL JUST  GOOD TIMEIN', HEEL RAISIN',




GatorNate The Gladezmen

"Alligator Radio"
   * Featuring an antiquated field guide to modern cryptozoology (CryptoZoo!), a classic American tale of southern life and love(Queen Of Belle Mead), a handy "how-to operate" for all Citizens Band operators looking to expand their trucker/CB vocabulary(Alligator Radio), a synopsis/editorial on today's most unbelievable television programs(Reality Sham), a day in the life of an Everglades air-boat captain(Who Swampin' Now?), a hard rockin' love song, reminding all mankind that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, dedicated to a lost love-lot lizard, written off as merely a lonely truck stop hooker by most(Sweet Pea) an exciting journey into survival and overcoming odds, from the bowels of Badluck Woods, down to the mangrove mazes of 10,000 Islands, lost in the lowlands, but for good?(All Night Adventure), a massive mix-up of genre benders and sharp tounged liars gouge, featuring the guitar riff written by the ghost of Elvis Presley(Nimrod's Kingdom), an epic ode-to-psyclebillies, and all bikers alike, the  officially unofficial M.C. anthem(Kickstands Up)