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| things are getting pretty dense on the back 40. |
it got well into the 90s today and, luckily, the humidity was tolerable.
good productive day: a little laundry, a trip to the recycling center, got a new hat for the baby and mowed the lawn.
spraying the grapevines with poison a couple of weeks ago hasn't done much to kill them, although that may have as much to do with the rain that followed its application that evening as anything.
so the back fence seems to have only grown more lush and entwined with their green growth and it gives the yard the look and feel of mid-summer.
driving with the windows open in heat like today's helps you appreciate why light, weightless pop is made for this season: the atmosphere is stifling enough; why make it any more so with a heavy blanket of
meaning?
was singing to myself as i went about with my chores today and first had r.e.m.'s version of
"(all i have to do is) dream" before segueing into roy orbison's
"in dreams," which led to bruce springsteen and
"thunder road," which referenced orbison.
working alongside my wife literally slaving away in the kitchen to make meals for the family as i cleaned the catbox and sorted laundry while tending to the needs of the kids seemed in marked contrast to the longing in the first two songs from the early days of rock n' roll.
they plaintively sing of loneliness and the unfulfilled desire that young people have for real love, whereas springsteen takes it to the next level with gritty detail as he woos his love from blue-collar new jersey to escape to the freedom of the open road.
this is the music of unfettered youth.
and only now, as an adult with responsibilities do i appreciate that what the songwriters did was articulate the persistent, unexplainable desire for that someone who would end their aloneness and send them on the path to being.
what's funny is that what i'd long regarded as one of rod stewart's lesser efforts before he began his long slide into irrelevance suddenly made sense.
the first verse in "young turks" warns that "life is so brief/and time is a thief" while the chorus reminds the song's protagonists that "young hearts be free" and "time is on your side."
these words — plus the advice to not let the world put you down or push you around — are encouragements you offer to a young person who hasn't yet been tested — or beaten down — by life.
(it has to be the awful synth-pop arrangement that must kill this song. lyrically, it still bears the imprint of stewart as story teller.)
his words seemed like simple, trite rhymes to me when i first heard them as a high school senior back in 1981, but looking back at the angst i was experiencing in my late teens and 20s with discerning my purpose in life and fretting at the time passing all the while, i realize that was probably just a whole lot of hang-wringing and navel-gazing — time i could have spent, i dunno, being young?
as it was, while i wasn't as "free" as some of my friends were socially, neither was i as sheltered culturally as others, so it seems there was some sort of balance struck.
during those "lost years" when i was discerning my vocation, i came to believe that i was on a path — and that if i kept my faith i would wind up where i hoped to be: happy and loved.
while i still believe that i am on a journey — and that my poor, malnourished faith is tested seemingly on a daily basis — it seems that i am at least part of the way to where i'd hoped i'd end up.
if i really think about it, though, aside from some nebulous, inarticulate desire, life so far has been beyond any dream i could have envisioned. and for that, i am most grateful.
just keep on holding on to us, Lord. amen and amen.
