A child flew past me riding in a star

This turned up on my "Liked Songs" on Spotify this morning, while I working on something else. 

 I must have "liked" it ages ago. 

 I don't recognise it. 

 But I like it.

There once was a note pure and easy/ Playing so free like a breath rippling by/ The note is eternal I hear it, it sees me/ Forever we blend as forever we die  

I listened and I heard music in a word/ And words when you played your guitar/ The noise that I was hearing was a million people cheering/ And a child flew past me riding in a star

As people assemble/ Civilization is trying to find a new way to die/ But killing is really merely scene-changing/ All men are bored with other men's lives

We all know success when we all find our own dream/ And our love is enough to knock down any wall/ And the future's been seen as men try to realize/ The simple secret of the note in us all

Stacking chairs - and saying my prayers

 

You left your heart in the jungle 

Ripped off of your red bicycle 

I didn't know you then 

But it feels significant 

I gave up everything 

I learned 

Just to follow you down that dirt road 

You better hold my hand 

There is no map for this 

When the wheels come off, I'll be your spare 

When the party's over, I'll be stacking the chairs 

When the world turns on you, I will be there  

Sleeping is boring, you don't need a bed 

Your thoughts tick loudly in your head 

And I know you now 

I move in time with them 

I'm wrapped up in all thesе weird theories 

Running in circlеs, chased by bees 

You uncover tracks 

And stop the madness

Maybe it ain't over

Nope.  

One of those days. 

Here's a song I like. 

I once was a dancer, I was young once like you, though I know I don't look it

Jumped high as the sky, had fire in my eyes, had legs like a stallion

And I had a girl, and I loved her, oh, my best friend was her brother

We were on top of the mountain that summer

We thought we'd never be swallowed by the crack

Fallen so far down like the rest of those clowns begging bus fare back

Swallowed by the cracks

Our pride worn down talking times gone by, like everybody else

Swallowed by the cracks 

We would talk through the night about what we would do if we just could get started

I would choreograph, Eileen, she would act while Steve was a writer.

Then Stevie ran away and got bored

Eileen took a job in a store

While I became this drunken old whore

'Cause you see we'd be swallowed by the cracks.

Maybe it ain't over, I can see it's up to me,

You're only out when you stay out

You stay out when you don't believe

We could drive around in circles getting nowhere all night long

Getting drunk with strangers telling lies, and singing along with the jukebox, baby.

- David Baerwald

Am I?

Moka House in Spring 2018

I sure hope so. 

Not in the coffee shop, necessarily - not that I'd mind.  

The Resident Fan Boy is charging off to London, Ontario tomorrow to attend yet another Anglican Synod, for the next week and a bit.

And I'm running out of day, and making lists, so I guess I am where I'm supposed to be.

Got distracted

Now I gotta get to bed.

Are those dreams or are those prayers?

Look, I could tell you about today.

But not today.

Maybe tomorrow.  

In the meantime, this song is performed by Roseanne Cash, and written by Tom Waits.  Well the smart money's on Harlow 

And the moon is in the street 

The shadow boys are breaking all the laws 

And you're east of East St. Louis 

And the wind is making speeches 

And the rain sounds like a round of applause 

Napoleon is weeping in the Carnival saloon 

His invisible fiance is in the mirror 

And the band is going home 

It's raining hammers 

It's raining nails 

Oh, it's time, time, time 

And it's time, time, time 

And it's time, time, time that you love 

And it's time, time, time 

And they all pretend they're orphans 

And their memory's like a train 

You can see it getting smaller as it pulls away 

And the things you can't remember 

Tell the things you can't forget that 

History puts a saint in every dream 

Well she said she'd stick around 

Until the bandages came off 

But these mama's boys just don't know when to quit 

And Matilda asks the sailors 

Are those dreams or are those prayers? 

So close your eyes, son 

And this won't hurt a bit

Worn out and needing a lullaby

 Had a circular sawblade, where I should have had a heart

You kept your boat afloat for so long

I was trusted, I adored her, and I tore it all apart

I saw you try and stop the sunset on your own

Twin moons on a millpond, and a tumbledown barn

I'll forever want your ancient silver gravity

I can still taste the heat of the sun on her skin in my arms

I could fold to the cold of these January streets

Keep your hand around the fickle flame of morning-after

But your smile in the half-light was pure pillow-print cheek

An angel tangled in the very cloths of heaven

I'll be far away for a while, but my heart's staying put

Warming and guarding and guiding the one that I love

The silence and the waiting and the rush of all aboard

Fifty souls to a carriage I'm trying hard to be ignored

Then my telephone shakes into life and I see your name

And the wheatfields explode into gold either side of the train

The key to a door to a world like that

Some songs sound way more cheerful than they actually are, don't they?

I can't remember the dream that I had last night 

But I woke with delight and excitement and then when I tried 

To remember the dream that I had last night 

It was gone but the feeling I had in the dream stayed on 

When I'm awake and I look around me 

I can faithfully record everything that I see 

Most of my memories tend to be sad 

So I wish I could remember the dream that I had 

I can't remember the dream that I had last night 

If I could I would write it out, underline the highlights 

Of the dream that would now redefine my life 

Be a new road map, affirmation and guiding light 

When I'm awake I note all that I see 

And remember it with photographic accuracy 

Most of my memories tend to be bad 

And I'm sad I can't remember the dream that I had 

Why can't I remember it when I can't forget unpleasant thoughts? 

I want to push them away 

They creep like weeds, 

like weeds they cover all the flowerbeds 

I can't remember the dream that I had last night  

But the simple fact that my mind could concoct such a thing 

As the incredible dream that I had last night 

Is a clue to the key to a door to a world like that 

My daily life doesn't interest me 

It's a never-ending litany of pain and ennui 

This waking nightmare is driving me mad 

And I wish I could remember the dream that I had 

Why can't I remember the dream that I had? 

Wish I could go live in the dream that I had

No one can do the Evil Eye like a Welsh person

Ran out of day again.

I'm cheating and leaving you with one of my very favourite clips from the panel show Would I Lie to You?, based on the party game where you tell a story and the players have to guess whether it's true or false.

The story-teller is chief BBC newsreader Huw Edwards (who I know from his wonderful limited series The Story of Wales).  This episode of WILTY is from ten years ago, but the Resident Fan Boy and I are re-enjoying it on the new television.

The life stuff

"Things keep happening," Demeter said, shaking her head.

"Well, yeah, that's what life is," I replied.

What was happening?  Just stuff.  Y'know, life.

And all of us, Demeter, the Resident Fan Boy, and younger daughter, got our flu vaccinations this week, so we're tired.

Talk to you tomorrow.

Animated dad humour

Tired. I'll leave you with this animated music video from the 1980s, that used to get a lot of play on MuchMusic.

I read the rules before I broke 'em

Another tiring day, another song I like.  I enjoy Joel Plaskett, but there are not too many rap songs that catch my fancy.

I think the difference here is the folk-based Haligonian feel of this number. 

Sometimes good people draw troublesome things

I got my second COVID booster today, after a wait of nearly nine months (in order to get the updated vaccine).  So I'm a bit sore.  And wiped out.

Here's a song I like.  I'm not crazy about the scansion, but I like the sentiments.  G'night. 

Perspective

Bonkers but brilliant

Perhaps I shouldn't admit it, but I never was all that crazy about most of John Williams' music. Harry Potter is an exception, and I always found the instrumentation haunting. Here's a young fella to deconstruct it for us without a word, yet using only his voice:

The unnerving ossifying body I'm in

Damn, it's late.

I'm tired.

I like this song.

 

Can I ax a question?

It was elder daughter's birthday today. And I had to accompany Demeter on her eye procedure appointment. All in the middle of a pandemic.

Which means I missed seeing any of BBC's Big Night In.

But you know I can't resist David Tennant. Even with a zigzag hairband.


(The Doctor W.H.O. reference is really quite clever, isn't it?)

Hey, it's my birthday - which means I've got chores

Talk to you tomorrow. (Oh wait. That's elder daughter's birthday...)

Architects and engineers

Another day when I've simply run out of time. It's been an encouraging and discouraging day -- and I may elaborate later.

One of the things I'm working on is a rundown of the "tens decade", which is private, I should hastily add; I won't be posting it here.

I'm working on 2010, so here's a song from that year, which I probably didn't discover until two years later.
The song's rather better than the video.

Yuletide treasure

The rainy night, with its sinister swinging shadows, created by high winds, has left a shiny new day and new year.

This morning, the pavements were littered with twigs and chunks of bark blasted off the aging trees of our neighbourhood.

It's the eighth day of Christmas, so we're still exchanging a few gifts, and enjoying the last precious hours before elder daughter flies away back to Hades.

I thought I'd hastily leave a record of some of the treasures given me this Christmas - aside from time with family.