Tuesday, June 3, 2014


You open your heart up to this sort of thing. You lay there naked, hoping to be clothed.
      Jimmy Page

That sure seems like life to me. As I understand it, you come into this world naked and there the game begins.

I am on a Jimmy Page tear. And it was one of those days where I missed Carl so very, very much. I desperately wanted someone I could call and rant about Led Zeppelin. There just aren’t that many people out there open for a random rave session about music. Carl and I never got to discussing and dissecting Jimmy or the Zep.

I never really liked Led Zeppelin back when I was a kid. I was alienated from their bullshit machismo and all the utter negative nonsense about women. There was no way into their music for me. It wasn’t FOR me. I was excluded, at least on the levels I had emotional, aesthetic, and spiritual access to at that time. And all that silly Robert Plant panting and what not. Even then I thought, "Oh get a life." That is male posturing for males. I don't think the testosterone fueled and maturity impaired should be exposed to the inane, destructive, whiny, misogynistic lyrics, lest they take them out of the blues context and mistake them for some kind of (romantic) reality. We had a recent tragic example of this line of not-thinking far too recently.

But the music. The damn production and arrangements and the stellar musicianship. NOW THAT is on a whole other plane. For mature audiences only.

I was on my walk, heading out to send a belated birthday card to my brother, when I hit play on Whole Lotta Love. The brilliance of Jimmy Page's guitar, and then layers of sonic nuance did bring actual tears to my eyes. For true. I thought, "Who would think, looking at the middle-aged walker on this fine, sunny day, that she is crying over Led Zeppelin and the guitar genius of Jimmy Page ?" I wanted to reach out to my lifelong pals, who were all Zep fans back in the day, including my birthdayed brother, and confess that I had seen the light. But I figured it was too silly and other people have meaningful lives, so this kind of talk is relegated to those tequila and bullshit sessions once happens into every once in awhile. 

I have the whole box set of Led Zeppelin, so I have plenty to keep me amused for the week. 

Then back to Jimmy's quote, well, getting clothed, knowing what clothes to wear in the who-am-I sense, is quite the challenge. And opening your heart to life ... that's even harder.

It was a rough day for me. JV's sister dropped by to pick up the contract for selling the house. She and I had a long, tearful, rambling conversation about family, life, challenges, and change. It wasn't how I planned to spend the day, but sometimes, if there's no compelling reason like work, you just need to go with it.

And then JV hisself helped me pot those herbs I bought in Brooklyn and gave me a sanding lesson on one of my refinishing projects. He does such beautiful work, I want to learn exactly how he does it. I'll try to take pictures. 

Meanwhile, it is late. Emmylou and Cooder are waiting for me. And I have fallen behind in Proust, so I will have to play catch up these next couple of days. Here's some good night music, Ry Cooder and V.M.Bhatt, A Meeting by The River.

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