Monday, June 10, 2013


Chillin' with Cooder on the SIP.
It being 12:13 p.m., and me still being in my nightgown on the screened-in porch (henceforth, SIP), seems high time to get busy with some chores. My desk top, physical, is a mess, my bedroom is a mess, and the dishwasher needs to be run.

M, J, and I saw Dave Alvin and the Guilty Ones last night at the Towne Crier in Pawling. Tonight is the last night for this old music bar in that town. Dave utterly shredded. Of course, at some point during the show, I wanted to go call my brother Carl and rave to him. Not going to happen.

Dave is from Downey which is the next town over from the town where I grew up. All part of the post-war California dream which seems to have gone awry, just like the rest of the American dream. Dave has one (well, way more than one) really good song, Dry River, (here are the lyrics), which is particularly resonant. 

I was born by a river 
that was paved with cement.
I was born by a river 
that was paved with cement.
Still, I'd stand out in that river,
And dream that I was soaking wet. 

Plenty of dreams out of context for the reality of my life. I guess if a dream is commensurate, appropriate for one's place in life, it isn't really a dream. But I certainly feel paved with cement sometimes.

Now Monday. 12:48 p.m. and I am showered and dressed. I slept very late, which I don't like. Gotta keep struggling with the schedule. And not fall too deeply into bummerland as it is overcast and both cool and muggy today.
Emmylou, demure, restrained.

I am not sure where I came across this little tidbit of time-wasting about gauging one's happiness. Some of them I do fine on, for instance having hobbies and supportive friends, but I must say, my first thought in the morning and my last thought as I (try to) fall asleep are certainly not happy ones, full of hope and excitement, or accomplishment, although that occurs from time to time.

So, I am not going to go on at length here, right now. I have plenty of little things that could use some attention if I do not want to take on the bigger issues of life, but I do need to push myself into the deeper waters again, and get busy swimming. 

1 comment:

  1. I've seen Dave Alvin many times (small venues, front row). One time I spoke to him about that song, as the creek ("the wash") by the house I grew up in was cemented too, by the Army Corps of Engineers, (...the next year it washed away several houses when rains filled it with debris from the hills; I've written a song about that). I love his deep singing voice! Seems like a nice guy too.