White Winter Hymnal

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/DrQRS40OKNE

I was following the pack, all swallowed in their coats
With scarves of red tied 'round their throats
To keep their little heads from falling in the snow
And I turned around and there you go
And Michael, you would fall and turn the white snow
Red as strawberries in summertime

~  Robin Pecknold (Fleet Foxes)

It snowed up North.  In fact, the schools in my county were closed.  Snow Day! And there's a Nor'easter coming next week. So of course, even though I am not there, I will pay tribute.

You must listen to this song, and if you do, you will be entertained with a claymation video that is quite compelling.  But listen to it . . . because it's the harmonies that make the song so wonderful.  Even Robin Pecknold, the writer of the song, said, "It's lyrically fairly meaningless."  He intended the song to be like "Whistle While You Work" from Snow White -- "something to hum along to as you do the dishes."

The song appears on Fleet Foxes' debut album in 2008.  At that time, J. Tillman contributed to the gorgeous harmonies.  You may know him now as Father John Misty.  I do love his voice, and though his lyrics are sometimes crazy, I will always appreciate this line from "Chateau Lobby #4":  I want to take you in the kitchen / Lift up your wedding dress someone was probably murdered in."

But back to "White Winter Hymnal."  Pecknold suggested that the song speaks to a loss of innocence.  He says he went all through school with the same group of kids (as did I), and it troubled him to see how some of those kids chose paths that led them down dangerous territory.  But in the song, they are young and uncomplicated, despite the fear of losing their little heads.

I love the play of color in the lyrics.  As a poet, I have always appreciated the way that color can evoke mood and theme in a poem, and that is true of these lyrics. The sharp turn from winter to summer, accomplished through the color red, offers hope and promise.  I do hope that my northern friends are keeping the promise of spring alive despite the white landscape.

Lost in the Supermarket

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/qsrEAWcAvRg

I'm all lost in the supermarket
I can no longer shop happily
I came in here for that special offer
A guaranteed personality

I'm all tuned in, I see all the programs
I save coupons from packets of tea
I've got my giant hot discotheque album
I empty a bottle and I feel a bit free

~ Joe Strummer (The Clash)

OMG, how I love The Clash!  "The only band that matters!"  I got to see them at Bond's in NYC in the spring of 1981, hailed as "one of the finest moments in New York rock history."  "Lost in the Supermarket" was included on the 1979 release of London Calling, two years before their influential Sandinista.  I recall the Bond's concert as starting late, perhaps not until 10:00 or 11:00 at night . . . and I had to go to work the next day!  Obviously, I managed to survive the experience.

I went grocery shopping today, in preparation for the arrival this weekend of my son, his girlfriend, and one of my daughters.  I am so looking forward to this visit, but the trip to Publix was not so much fun.  And the shock at the cash register was no fun at all . . . until I realized that nearly half of my bill was because of beer and wine.  And that's not including the trip to the liquor store prior to my supermarket excursion!  But it's all okay.  We will likely not even make a dent into the alcohol that I purchased, but better to have more on hand than is needed than to run out.  At least, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

But this morning, I did have a moment of spacing out while waiting to check out.  It was weird.  Maybe because it was after lunch time and I was hungry?  Or maybe because the grocery store was cold while it was 82 degrees outside?  Or maybe it was because I was just momentarily caught up in all that is the American culture: the 102 flavors of Doritos (seriously, look it up), and the "flip side" crackers that offer you pretzel on one side and cracker on the other (because you cannot make up your mind?), the sugary drinks that take up an entire aisle (because Big Sugar supports Big Pharma), the shelves and shelves of cookies (doesn't anybody bake anymore?), the parade of breads that are loaded with preservatives, and don't even get me started on the frozen food aisle, with all its "convenience" offerings. But I have eggs and avocados and clementines and mushrooms and bananas and pistachios and lots of other good things. Including a guaranteed personality.

I empty a bottle and I feel a bit free.  I can understand that "escape."  It's a challenging culture. Cheers to those who find a way to navigate it or escape it.  Just remember:  those who wander are not lost.  Not even in the supermarket.

The Painter

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/vOuUu77Abc4

The painter stood before her work
She looked around everywhere
She saw the pictures and she painted them
She picked the colors from the air

Green to green, red to red
Yellow to yellow in the light
Black to black when the evening comes
Blue to blue in the night

It's a long road behind me
It's a long road ahead

If you follow every dream, you might get lost
If you follow every dream, you might get lost

~  Neil Young

Yesterday (when I was on strike) was my dear friend Angie's birthday.  (Surprise! Happy Birthday, Angie!)  Angie and I met when we were five or six, as far as I can recall.  Angie's Aunt Margaret lived next door to me on Maple Avenue, and when Angie and her sister Kim came to visit, my sister and I were right there, knocking on the front door.  We spent endless hours playing with our Ginny dolls on Aunt Margaret's screened-in porch.  If I were to recall the many stories that go along with my memories of Aunt Margaret's house, this post would turn into a novel.  Just let it be known that there were ribbons and ghosts and police cars and Aunt Margaret's suicide by hanging in her attic . . . which pretty much ended Angie's visits there. But we met up again when we attended the same high school, and as is true for so many friendships, Facebook reconnected us a few years ago.

Angie is an extraordinary artist, which explains my song lyric choice for today.  Although I cannot relocate the information to verify, I'm pretty sure Neil Young's painter is his daughter.  "The Painter" came out on Young's 2005 release Prairie Wind, which many claimed brought him back to his Harvest and After the Gold Rush mood.  Having some health issues at the time, it is not surprising that he would compose such emotive tunes as those that can be found on Prairie Wind.

What is so unique about Angie's watercolors is that they are miniatures.  I mean like postcard size.  The precision and detail that Angie incorporates into her country scenes is mind-blowing.  I am certain that she has the steadiest hand and best eyesight of anyone I know.  Well, here . . . take a look for yourself:  http://www.perennialdesigns.net/?page_id=2413  Angie and her husband John own Letterpress Studio in Old Lyme, Connecticut.  Through their website, you can purchase Angie's beautiful paintings on notecards and calendars.  My intention here is not to promote Angie's or anyone's products, but Angie's work is so beautiful, I thought you might be interested.  (By the way, if you view the video of Neil's song linked above, those paintings are not Angie's, although they, too, are beautiful.)

Angie followed her dream, and she did not get lost.  She picked the colors from the air. I hope your birthday is as beautiful as your paintings, Angie . . . and as beautiful as you are!

A Day Without a Woman

I'm on strike today.  See you here tomorrow.

Eye in the Sky

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/ET6jMQ1teZU

Don't think sorry's easily said
Don't try turning tables instead
You've taken lots of chances before
But I ain't gonna give anymore
Don't ask me, that's how it goes
'Cause part of me knows what you're thinking

Don't say words you're gonna regret
Don't let the fire rush to your head
I've heard the accusations before
And I ain't gonna take anymore
Believe me, the sun in your eyes
Made some of the lies worth believing

I am the eye in the sky looking at you
I can read your mind
I am the maker of rules dealing with fools
I can cheat you blind
And I don't need to see any more
To know that I can read your mind

~  Alan Parsons Project

Seems to be something in the news about wiretapping someone's phone?  "Eye in the Sky" jumped into my head this morning, so I decided to go with it in the spirit of surveillance.  If you listen to the song via the above link, you may be disappointed that it is not the familiar 1982 Alan Parsons Project version.  I chose Jonatha Brooke's cover off her 2004 release, Back in the Circus, just because I love it.  Of course, now I realize the serendipity of that title to the events of the last six-and-a-half weeks.

When the song first came out, there was talk that it was inspired by George Orwell's 1984, but the Alan Parsons Project has never indicated that there's any truth to that.  My suspicion is that anyone who said that never actually read 1984.  In its simplest interpretation, the song seems to be about a lovers' quarrel.  Eric Woolfson, lyricist and member of the band, did claim to be inspired by being shown the security system at the Tropicana Hotel in Las Vegas.  "I thought it would make a good subject for a song."  And it did.  It's the biggest "hit" the APP ever had, reaching #3 on the U.S. charts.

Jon Stewart was a guest on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert last week.  He presented a video mash-up of a certain politician punctuating his talk with the phrase "Believe me."  And then he made the point that anyone who repeatedly says "Believe me" is probably lying.  Believe me, the sun in your eyes / Made some of the lies worth believing.

If you have found yourself being distracted by a dog and pony show lately, take note of the closing lines of "Eye in the Sky."  I ain't gonna live any more believing / Some of the lies while all of the signs are deceiving.

Home

Listen while your read:  https://youtu.be/9YK-tWOkLhs

Putting on old clothes in a new way
Putting on a pose of a new stage
Waking up every day just a little bit changed
As it breaks over us like waves

Long live beauty, short live pain
Lust for wonder, and hunger pain
Face your fears, not your shame
'Cause in the end, it just wears away

Leave the lights on
'Cause it might be nighttime when I get there
And I'm on my way home

~  C. Porterfield (Field Report)

If you visited this space yesterday, you can understand that I am a bit emotionally overwhelmed by my visit with a friend who is facing what we all we face eventually.  And part of that exhaustion is due to the fact that I will probably never see him again.  But despite the heartache, I feel good about having made the trip, and the memory of my visit will stay with me strong for the next several days.  While you are reading this, I will be making the long drive home, turning the music up and down, scanning the GPS for clues, shifting uncomfortably in my seat, and munching on a granola bar and an apple.  I will have one goal in mind:  home.

Field Report's sophomore album, Marigolden, came out in August 2014.  I fell in love with "Home" immediately.  The opening verse is beautifully written, but it makes references to Christmas tinsel, so I jumped right to the second verse for this post.  In an interview in which he discusses the song, Porterfield says, "When you're on the road, it's a total personal recalibration as opposed to coming home."  Now of course he's talking about being "on the road" as in "touring with the band."  As much as I have romanticized about that life, I can't even carry a tune, so when I talk of being "on the road," it's a reference to driving from Point A to Point B.  But despite how tired I am right now, the metaphor does not escape me.  I listened carefully when Cat Stevens told us that we were "on the road to find out."  And whichever road you are on, you should wake up every day just a little bit changed.

I can say that I woke up changed today.  And it broke over me like waves.

There's another line in the song that I find compelling.  The body remembers what the mind forgets.  I think the more predictable line would be its opposite, but I like the deliberate reversal.  I just like the whole song.  And I'm on my way home.

Good with God

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/dDMMd4zx7is

I'm not afraid, I'm good with God
I got my sins, in fact, I got a lot
I got a soul that's good and flawed
I'm good with God, I'm good with God

I'm not afraid, got no regrets
I paid my dues, I paid my debts
I made a mess, but it's my bed
No regrets, no regrets

Goodness knows, I've done you wrong
I'm not too gone to see
All's I know's I'm good with God
I wonder how She feels about me

~  Old 97s and Brandi Carlile

So on some days, when I have the luxury of time, I sort through songs and their lyrics until I settle upon one for that day's blog.  Other days, some event or remembrance dictates the song choice.  And then there are days like today, when I'm occupied with more important things (like visiting my daughter in North Carolina) and I've had no time to think about which song to choose.  But I went to bed last night with a song in my head, and sure enough, it was still there when I woke up this morning.  And then I had that "Duh!" moment.

I am heading out in a couple of hours to return to Florida, but this afternoon, I will be making a surprise visit to a dear old friend whom I have not seen in several years.  Bill was my best guy friend when we were teenagers, and he has remained dear to my heart for over 50 years.  When I think of those teenage years, the same scene is foremost in my memory.  It's 1966, and there's Bill and me, sitting in a booth at Eddie's Restaurant, the popular after-school hang-out in our small hometown.  We're drinking cherry Cokes and listening to Lou Christie on the juke box, or maybe The Rolling Stones.  Bill is teaching me about drag racing, his favorite spectator sport, and I am memorizing the details, mostly because it's way more interesting than my algebra homework.  Bill walks me home later and then hitches a ride to his home, several miles away.

Two years later, Bill is off to Viet Nam and I am off to college.  We become penpals.  Although he does not reveal much about his activities, there are always vague references to "Charlie," and I know enough about the horror of that war to pick up the fear behind his chatty letters.  I kept all 96 of them for a very long time, but somewhere, they disappeared.  Bill did not.  He returned from Nam in tact (at least physically) and we resumed our friendship, although his move to Florida put us back in penpal mode, but without the intensity.  In the years since, we have lived our separate lives, touching base occasionally, but always caring about one another in our hearts and memories.

After a few years back in the Northeast, Bill moved to North Carolina, but Facebook reconnected us. And here we are.  But there's something different.  Bill has been diagnosed with ALS and told that he has a number of months before that disease claims him.  My visit to him today will likely be the last time I see him.

Old 97s released Graveyard Whistling a couple of weeks ago, and "Good with God" is getting a lot of airplay.  The band, teaming up with Brandi Carlile, rock this song with intense rhythm and a bit of Texas twang.  The song is a duet between lead singer Rhett Miller and Carlile, who takes on the persona of God.  The song surprises with Carlile's response to Rhett's opening verse:

You should be scared, I'm not so nice
Many a man has paid the price
You're pretty thick, so I'll tell you twice
I'm not so nice, I'm not so nice

I made you up and I'll break you down
I'll do it slow, how's that sound?
You're just a joke that's going 'round

Clearly, the song raises larger questions about redemption and spiritual reckoning.  We're all going to face this crisis of mortality eventually.  Some of us get caught off-guard, but some of us get to see it coming.  Is that a blessing or a curse?  As reviewer Jonathan Keefe commented, "If hellfire and brimstone are about to rain down, the band sounds unafraid to meet their fate."  I hope my friend Bill is able to get to that place.

Needless to say, today will be a mix of emotions for me.  And I will, once again, question my own standing with God, whoever He or She may be.

You might think you're good with God
We're gonna have to wait and see
I guess we'll have to wait and see

There's one thing I know for certain, though.  Bill, you are good with God.  And with me.