Saturday, January 07, 2006

Hello, Trippy Bob


Had fun yesterday with the good songs list. Unfortunately, the rest of the day I kept thinking of ones I should have included and great acts (Cash, Haggard, Buffett, Zevon) who never even got mentioned. Such is life and all lists are subjective anyway.

Got up this AM very early and went fishing. Once again, nothing was caught, but MC 900 ft Ehrhardt did buy me breakfast at the local Waffle House, so there was a happy ending to this tale indeed. Then we just went home and talked for a while. We both agree... When I lived in Yokosuka (in the news again, and again for the wrong doggone reason) and he lived in North Carolina we saw each other more often than now, when we live not 2 miles apart. How is it that things happen like that?

Having a cold snap right now. I won't mention temps, as I don't need those of you in the more northern climes harrassing me and telling me stories about what a real cold snap is. All I know is that I had to turn the heat on last night and wear a coat to go fishing this morning, so it's cold. I think the cold affected my monofiliment line adversely, causing me to lose distance and accuracy in my casts, contributing to the resulting lack of fish we caught today. Dang cold!!

I have to work today, Saturday. What a bummer. I only get a one day weekend this week. That's not a weekend. That's just like a week-speedbump. A week-slowdown. More like one of them California rolling stops than a weekend. Dang cold!! I mean, Dang work!!

A good verse from a bad song:

The only thig I've ever stolen
now I give you
It's a line about skulls and roses
from a song that another sang
Metaphors (and metaphives and metasixes)
metagirl I dearly loved
She answers to your name
And I love you still....

I don't know, I've just always liked making things rhyme, making words fit together into patterns, and occasionally writing something that is so pretty that I just have to sit back and go, "Wow!" I used to just take the thing that was happening now, as I decided to start, and go from there:

"The smokey streaks in the sky was rain"
"I looked out across my yard and all the leaves were turning brown"
"I was coming up the driveway wondering if you'd still be home"

Once that first line is there you can find something that logically follows it fairly easily. And since you can already kind of see where the meter needs to go, you are well on your way to lyrics. Anyway, that's what works for me.

FEMA should reimburse middle class a little and rich people hardly at all for losses in a natural disaster. I'm talking reimbursement, not the providing of initial medical, food, water or shelter. Poor people should get more help towards rebuilding their homes, since they probably cannot afford comprehensive insurance in the first place, and maybe a modest grant to purchase some furniture and cook pots. Middle class and rich can more afford to replace those kind of things. I mean, why is the government acting as some kind of supplemental insurance? Hurricanes are an act of God and while unfortunate, are nobody's fault. Where is it written that as Americans we are guaranteed to be reimbursed for putting our lives back together? If you are in a car wreck, your insurance pays for your vehicle. You don't then walk down to the government building downtown, walk up to the head honcho, hold your hand out and say, "I had some CD's and a skateboard in there too. I want you to replace them for me. And be quick about it or I'll complain on TV." There's more, but I'm having a hard time making it sound right.

This is an example of what DRE has always called "the alien boy playing with words". Perhaps you'll enjoy it. If you try. And, please, I ask that you do try. Otherwise I'll complain about you on TV.

Innocence

Think about when the journey's through
And the feelings that come over you
Light in the tunnel and all that stuff
Sad old cliches, such is love
Just a good excuse to sing the blues

What we had left was innocence
It was sold away for a few more cents
Money spent with nothing left to show
Flames of youth like fires burned
Just faded out while our heads were turned
By then, you know, our seeds had all been sown
How could we have known?

I was watching a movie late last night
Through the ghosts and the snow on my black & white
When the actress smiled and turned her head
I could have sworn it was you instead
I spoke your name (and may have cried out loud)

All we had left was our innocence
That we sold away for a few more cents
But not enough that we could hold it in our hands
Writing songs of pain we'd laced with love
Songs we sang in foreign tongues
Songs that we could never understand
And we were holding hands

Think about the cryptic life we've led
Amaze yourself at the things we've said
Not quite the truth, but mighty close
And spoken with our eyes still closed
But what is love if it ain't them 12 bar blues?

All we ever had was an innocence
That we pissed away for a few more cents
Then faster, ever faster, did we run
When they pulled the plug on electric dreams
That lingered on in echoed screams
Silouetted in a single, naked bulb
The shadows of our love

Ed
Balboa Park, SD, CA

No warranties expressed or implied, sucker. Out.
Ramblin' Ed

2 comments:

Blogger Gun Trash said...

That's hindsight for ya', always 20-20 or sumtin like that.

8:59 PM  
Blogger Unknown said...

'Sad old cliches, such is love'

That line or something very like it goes with the 'back pocket poet' in some form of poetry that refuses to settle down on paper. I like this one very much from bottom to top. -Jn

6:50 PM  

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