Many thanks to the absolutely fabulous Darrell Scott.
With a Memory Like Mine
Darrell Scott & Anthony Wayne Scott
I can see that train a-coming
Watch that big light shine this way
Hear that whistle softly blowing
Lord, it’s been an awful day
I watched them leave that Friday morning
It was in the month of May
I told my son to be a good soldier
But return again someday
He did return just one year later
And I’ll not forget the day
The baggage car is where he traveled
In a casket where he lay
Chorus:
Train man, keep your whistle blowing
Make it moan, make it whine
You make a man feel mighty lonesome
With a memory like mine
In that little country graveyard
On a dark and dreary day
They placed a flag upon the casket
And the casket in the grave
I couldn’t stand it any longer
And I knew not how to pray
I cried, Oh, Lord, I hate to leave him
All alone beneath the clay
Chorus
I can see him as a baby
I can hear him call my name
I can feel him under fire
And see him rising from the flame
Lord, if I could I’d trade places
I would gladly give my all
I’d wrap that flag around me like a blanket
And listen for the clods to fall
Chorus
American Tune is one of those songs one feels privileged to sing - it fills you up like few others. It is in my top 5. Paul Simon is the master bard of my generation. I always prefer the songwriter's recording of a song but Darrell Scott's interpretation of American Tune is mighty fine.
American Tune is a true patriotic song. A country with imperfections and mistake ridden but one of endless possibilities. Of sadness and self reflection but more than anything else, a positive belief to keep working and looking forward. Happy Birthday America.
Many's the time I've been mistaken
And many times confused
Yes, and often felt forsaken
And certainly misused
Oh, but I'm alright, I'm alright
I'm just weary to my bones
Still, you don't expect to be
Bright and bon vivant
So far a-way from home, so far away from home.
I don't know a soul who's not been battered
I don't have a friend who feels at ease
I don't know a dream that's not been shattered
or driven to its knees
Oh, but it's alright, it's alright
for we lived so well so long
Still, when I think of the
road we're traveling on
I wonder what's gone wrong
I can't help it, I wonder what's gone wrong.
And I dreamed I was dying
I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly
And looking back down at me
Smiled reassuringly
And I dreamed I was flying
And high up above my eyes could clearly see
The Statue of Liberty
Sailing away to sea
And I dreamed I was flying.
We come on the ship they call the Mayflower
We come on the ship that sailed the moon
We come in the a-ge's most uncertain hours
and sing an American tune
Oh, and it's alright, it's alright, it's alright
You can't be forever blessed
Still, tomorrow's going to be another working day
And I'm trying to get some rest
That's all I'm trying to get some rest.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Man Test
Many years ago upon returning from beautiful Ireland (sadly, they never were able to visit Scotland), my parents presented me with a gift from their trip. Not Belleek china. Not a piece of Irish knitwear. Something quite different and completely fascinating the likes of which I had never seen. With a twinkle in her eye Mother handed me a slightly irregular object about 9 inches long by 5 inches wide. The object was dense and dark, heavy but not too heavy, compressed. Obviously organic in nature, smooth but rough around the edges, odorless, clean. Puzzling. What the heck is this? I was baffled and then it came to me. OMG it's peat! I instantly loved it and my parents for carrying it all the way home.
The block was carefully wrapped in tissue paper and packed away (yes, in tissue paper - go ahead and make fun of me my Hebridean friends, it's a strange notion to be sure) and I completely forgot about it. About 8 or 9 years ago I happily re-discovered my little block of peat and placed in on a small china platter (alongside various rocks and minerals I had collected over the years) on my bookshelf in a place of prominence. (Crazy American, have you lost your mind woman - it's to be burnt not displayed!)
One day I got the inspiration to use the peat, but not in the traditional way. I would never ever burn my peat no more than I would purposefully break a piece of fine china. Instead, it serves as my "man test". When a man would come to call so to speak, I would hand him the peat and ask him what it was. It's a game I found immensely amusing. Nary a one figured it out. Nary a one is around today. :)
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