Now, I'm wakin' at the crack of dawn
To send a little money home from here to the moon
It's risin' like a discotheque
And now my bags are down and packed for traveling
Lookin' at happiness, keepin' my flavor fresh
Nobody knows, I guess, how far I'll go, I know
So I'm leavin' at six o'clock, meet in a parking lot
Harriet Hendershot, sunglasses on, she waits by this
Glass and concrete and stone
It's just a house, not a home
Skin that covers me from head to toe
Except a couple tiny holes and openings
Where the city's blowin' in and out
And this is what it's all about, delightfully
Everything's possible when you're an animal
Not inconceivable, how things can change, I know
So I'm puttin' on aftershave, nothing is out of place
Gonna be on my way, try to pretend it's not only
Glass and concrete and stone
And it's just a house, not a home
And it's glass and concrete and stone
It is just a house, not a home
And my head is fifty feet high
Let my body and soul be my guide
~ David Byrne
You know David Byrne from his days with Talking Heads, but I hope some of you know him in his solo career. This song comes from 2004's Grown Backwards, which is a favorite of mine. Byrne is a gifted musician and vocalist. Be sure to watch the live video linked above to enjoy the brilliant orchestral arrangement that backs up Byrne's vocals. It's gorgeous.
Since I've been writing this blog (for 269 days now), songs appear in my head based on pretty much everything I do. It's magical. Last night, I went to see the movie The Glass Castle, based on the memoir by Jeannette Walls, which I finally read just a couple of weeks ago. I most certainly recommend it, both the book and the movie, and preferably in that order.
A memoir, by definition, differs from an autobiography, in that a memoir is one's perception of what happened. Whether the story of Walls' dysfunctional childhood is completely accurate doesn't matter. There is much to take away from her story. And while my friend Korey and I noted that the movie seems a bit "light" compared to the book, there is no denying that both contain that combination of love and dysfunction that, I believe, most families endure to varying degrees.
The "glass castle" refers to a prominent motif in the story, a blueprint for a home made of glass that Rex Walls, the alcoholic father, returns to again and again as he struggles with his demons. It is a dream he shares with young Jeannette, the daughter whom he calls "Mountain Goat." It is obvious early on in the story that the glass castle, with its solar panels and spiral staircase, will never become a reality, and I think that is what led my mind to David Byrne's song. It is just a house, not a home. The real homes in which the family existed were rat-infested, cold, dilapidated wrecks, often with unsanitary conditions and an extreme lack of food. But despite their eccentricities and self-destructive behavior, Rex and Rose Mary Walls gave their children gifts of curiosity, self-dependency, and most importantly, survival. Perhaps what makes the story so compelling is that combination of love and neglect, an anomaly that so often becomes the norm in relationships.
In my career as a teacher of high school people, I would encounter students who came from stable and loving homes, but were rebellious, angry, careless, and destructive. I could not help but sympathize with those parents. But I also encountered students who came from terrible home situations and were good, honest, kind, and hardworking people. It's the old "nature versus nurture" conversation. What can any of us do but let my body and soul be my guide?
Oh, and don't throw stones.
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