One Day Late, and All Over the Place
It’s the birthday of astronomer Edmund Halley (Just imagine this being read in the voice of Garrison Keillor). On November 8th, 1656 the first astronomer to predict the return of a certain comet, to be named later, was born somewhere in England. I really should look it up.
But that might explain why the last couple of days I’ve been singing the first song in today’s day-late Saturday Song feature. This tune by Mary Chapin Carpenter has inspired me to plan my 95th birthday/comet-return party on the porch of my as yet unknown future residence. You are all invited.
The video includes pages from the book illustrated by Dan Andreasen. Call me cheesy, and melt me on a burger, but I find it kinda sweet. You may know that I’ve featured songs by MCP before. If you didn’t know that, just check the related posts below.
Not Waiting for the Next Storm
The next song in this eclectic weekend mix is kind of part two to yesterday. In fact I might bring Mary and Frank back for a threesome tomorrow. Now, don’t think like that! I only mean that since Saturday Songs are already leaking into Sundays, why not join up with the Music Monday feature as well. I’ve never been able to fully distinguish the two, though there was a time when one was meant to highlight poetry, meter and other musical elements related to verse. Ah well, like language, blogs evolve. And as far as doing a trio of posts with Frank, I just seem to be in one of those stages of life when I recognize myself in songs, and it’s quicker and more thorough to explain things by using someone else’s lyrics and notes.
Anyway, I mentioned yesterday that my son Jonathan had posted “Get Better” by Frank Turner on his Facebook page, making me feel proud for whatever peripheral role I may have played in introducing him to music he actually likes and still listens to. Then last night I remembered that earlier this week Micah, my youngest son, re-shared an old blog post of his own with the Frank Turner song, “Peggy Sang the Blues.” Great tune; you should click on it. So I realize that I’ve got a whole lot of Frank T. in my veins right now.
This song sort of covers my last several blog posts in three minutes and thirty-five seconds. You see, I was talking to Richard, one of those people you pay to listen to your troubles–not a bad idea, because it gives you a captive audience, and sometimes you get lucky, as I did with Richard, and you get some amazingly helpful advice in return.
“Richard,” I said, “When I’m having a good day, I invariably begin to worry, wondering what’s going to go wrong. Something always does. Nothing ever goes well for long.”
“David,” said he, “It sounds like you’ve become convinced that the world is a scary and dangerous place. There is more to the world than storms and survival; there is joy and beauty too.”
The conversation went something like that, and we started to discuss the trees deep roots, and the flexible branches and a lot of other practical ways for me to teach myself that, as Richard said, “It’s not the stuff; it’s the way I react to the stuff.”