For My Canadian Friends

I have been a long-time Bryan Adams fan. I actually PAID to download this to my iPod because of Bryan and the “Don Juan DeMarco” movie. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. He is just…a phenomenal musician.

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Little Girl Lost

See the little girl lost: walking through this world alone
She ain’t looking for a lover, she’s just looking for a home

If you want more than sympathy, then look for someone else
Cause she’s not true to anyone, not even to herself
She’ll have sixteen smiling strangers who are handing her a line
While she’s drawing dirty pictures on the black side of your mind
And that body she’ll let anybody hold — but the devil’s got her soul

But if you take her, take her easy
Treat her gentle, she used to love me

See the little girl lost, pleading silently for help
Knowing no one understands her, she don’t understand herself

She’ll feed your hungry ego till you think you’re quite a man
But you better count your fingers when she turns loose of your hand
Cause you’re just a game she’s playing any way that she can win
And you ain’t about to touch her any deeper than her skin
In that body anybody can control, but the devil’s got her soul

But if you take her, take her easy
Treat her gentle, she used to love me

~K. Kristofferson~

Music, The Meaning of Life and Miscellany

Idle time lets “things” creep into my head. Those dusty memories somehow surface from the shadows of my tired and overloaded brain. If I were in a particularly creative mood, I could expand upon on those in a greater amount of detail. But, I’m kinda ‘laxing today, so intead I will just touch on a few that are uppermost in the crevices and less dust covered than the rest.

I’m a child of the 70s and I occasionally open the way-back machine for a backward glance into what actually happened during the course of my life — to get me here — not often, and not when I find it to be too painful, but very occasionally, it’s good for my soul. Always, always, always when I reflect upon a particular part of my life, I attach some piece of music, some lyric, some prose to that exact moment/week/year. Music is important to me and has always been a part of my life from my earliest memories of my childhood. I can’t remember how old I was, but I remember my favorite childhood gift having been a transistor radio (anybody remember those?). It was a Christmas gift from my mom and dad, and since we were fairly poor (not a stab at you, Dad) growing up, I am certain it was neither the most high tech nor the most expensive, but it was a bit of heaven for me. I distinctly remember being “in awe” as we drove along in the car to go to church on Sunday or on my way to school. It even had headphones and I was “alone” with music and could tune the rest of the world out as a result.

The 70s and 80s were some pretty crazy times and the world was in a constant state of upheaval. Funny how things haven’t changed a lot in that regard, although I do perceive the current state of affairs as a decline. . . a decline in morals, in the “people are basically good” sort of Pollyanna attitude that I had way back when. I first fell in love in the 70s with a guy who later died by his own hand. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen at the tender age of 15. Funny how time changes our opinions but history seems to keep repeating itself.

I became a Dylan fan after the fact. I have come to appreciate his wisdom a la lyrics as the years have passed. His “Just Like A Woman” lyrics are, from my perspective, unrivaled, with a distant second being Billy Joel’s “She’s Always A Woman.” Being a girl and all that entails, except for when I boogie with the Hoover, those are the lyrics I like the most — those all-about-the-feminine-mystique lyrics. Well, there is also Jim Croce’s “Roller Derby Queen,” that makes my heart think happy thoughts — “she was 5 feet 6 and 215, a bleached-blond mama with a streak of mean.”

I went through the druggie music phase relatively unscathed (by drugs or music) and still have in my collection, a great deal of Pink Floyd and Zeppelin. MEGA Creedence fan, and as part of my hillbilly heritage, will always love Patsy Cline and all the country GREATS.

I was cruising “YouTube” today for the sheer pleasure of reaching back through those cobwebs, and came across some of the most phenomenal music ever…bar none. Among others, I listened to Marvin Gaye’s, “Let’s Get It On,” Michael McDonald’s rendition of “Lonely Teardrops,” and Willie Nelson’s “The Last Thing I Needed The First Thing This Morning,” (one of those cryin’ in your beer kinda country songs that would melt even the hardest of hearts) as well as one of my current favorites, Sarah McLachlan, and the memories damn near overflowed. I am eclectically bipolar when it comes to music – sometimes leaning toward the frenzied happy shit and sometimes the maudlin tear-jerker doom and gloom (My Wife Ran Off With My Best Friend And I Sure Do Miss Him) to the soulful and profound “Angel” lyrics by Ms. McLachlan. McLachlan’s lyrics hit me hard when I needed to slap myself around and I am forever grateful for the punch in the belly of all things emotional. Willie is just plain fun. Michael McDonald is HOT no matter how old he gets.

Give a listen to Angel…if you hate it, you have no taste.

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