Seagull

The last song I wrote on the guitar was Lady of Komarr – getting on for a year ago!  So when I finally broke down and unlimbered the Seagull last night, expecting, after all the muffled ahems it had been making while snugged up in its bag, for it to diss me most cru-ell-y, it merely said, “All is forgiven, write a song.”  The song I wrote last night came out in about 20 minutes.

I have no idea what I was dreaming about last night but I woke up with a smile on my face.

brief report

Tonight I:

Spoke for the first time to the best prospect from Craigslist. He reads SF (including my litmus novel, Frank Herbert’s the Dosadi Experiment)! He’s a union man! He sings bass! He has long hair and a beard! He made me laugh my ass off! I am meeting him Friday night!

Arranged in my own mind – okay, started spade work with the CUC – to work on a social justice refresher course for my church (welcoming gays, lesbians, transgendered and gender rebellious people of all stripes.)

Spoke to my mother on the phone. Spoke (briefly) to my Kitty Kate on the phone.

Hung with one of my fave exinlaws. Being Swampy.

Sat in a brilliantly sunny patio and watched the world go by while so doing.

Pondered how to put a retraction in my blog about beer. Okay, deep breath, here goes. I like beer. It’s staying.

Wrote a song:

Give me five, give me ten
give me round the bend again
you will know when I blow through your town
Give me five, give me ten
give me round the bend again
As I impart the wisdom I have found

You may stray…. so far away
you may go where only God can follow
But your mind will find a thousand ways to shine
and your heart may ache and never yet be hollow

chorus

You may wait … for an important date
And find that life has gone by in the meantime
But it’s one short breath between your birth and death
so you might as well enjoy yourself between time

Chorus.

I need another voice, (verse!), but I’m quite happy as things stand. It amazes me how much I can do when I am happy.

Tim Readman at Jericho Folk

I got to the door too late to get into the open stage (sigh…) but the open stage folk and the headliner were awesome.  Tim closed the show with Blackleg Miner which is an old favourite of Dr. Filk’s.  He also sang his own songs mixed very well and in a very smooth, entertaining fashion, with old favourites, a capella, etc.  He also has that English accent that makes a girl melt.
It was a beautiful evening.  As is my custom when I go to Jericho, I ordered a Raven on tap, thinking about the other times I’ve consumed it, and walked to the edge of the patio and watched the sun go down.  Damn, but this is beautiful country.

Paul has very kindly provided pics of the grad but I’ll be posting them later… stay tuned.

I had a blind date yesterday

He started losing me when he said that the word the came from theos (I called bull—-, looked it up in his convenient dictionary, proved that it was Anglo Saxon, showed it to him – at which point he shrugged and kept talking – on the same point, without realizing I had just destroyed his argument) but I didn’t say Cheque Please until he told me I was a poor lamb for believing humans ever walked on the moon.  He also purported to be enlightened and that he would show me everything; of course anything I said fed into his, uh, schema.  It was a tour de force, and since he was essentially harmless – it was obvious from his body language that he couldn’t hurt a fly – I let him run on until the second time he started repeating myself.  Finding myself lonely for intelligent conversation I went home and called some friends.

And for my next trick, I will include the word ’empirical’ in any future personal ads.

And now I can’t get “The Eagle has Landed” out of my head.  Murphy bless the big and little filkers.