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Bob Marley calls down the rain

Well. You can believe this or not, as you choose.

It’s Sunday. I’m peevish and frustrated and overwhelmed and mostly, worried. Apprehensive about a dozen things, few likely to happen. Rather than thinking about personal issues, I prefer to fret over global issues that I don’t stand a chance in hell of affecting. Lately, it’s drought. New Mexico has been in a drought for some time, and almost never has an abundance of water. Not much I can do except keep my water use as low as possible.

I couldn’t shake my malaise, even after a yoga nidra class, usually guaranteed serenity.

While net-surfing, I came across the Bob Marley line, “Don’t worry about a thing. Cause every little thing is going to be all right.” The song started playing in my head so I went to YouTube and played it three times. By the end of the first playing, my mood had lifted considerably.

Then, halfway through the second playing, it started to rain. A good rain (unpredicted by weather.com), of the kind we rarely see here, a big rain that is marching right along, lasting an unusually long time and still going strong. It has staying power, not the blink-and-you’ll miss showers we more often see. It is strong and plentiful, but not so hard as to bounce off the grounds. It’s soaking in.

A soaking rain. A blessing in this high desert. Every little thing is going to be all right. I played the song a third time, as a sort of celebration.

I’m not what you’d call a ‘music person’. I sometimes love to listen to it, but my range is limited and I tend to listen to the same things over and over. That I have as much range as I do is due entirely to my music scholar friends. I was lucky in Illinois to become part of a group \ of music-istas. Most of them were, in fact. They introduced me to many artists I love and here’s a big mmmwaaa to all of them. (I won’t try to list them, but a shout-out must go to songbird Jules and Ross)

These folks had music going all the time, no matter what else we were doing. I’ve never done that. I love silence and am lucky enough to live so as to get a lot of it.

But when I do listen to music, even sing-song ditties, I am struck anew with the magic it can work.

I really must remember to listen to music more often.

Have a listen. Especially if you’re in a bad mood. Try to not feel better. I dare you.

Let me know if it rains.


7 thoughts on “Bob Marley calls down the rain

  1. Nice to read you again. I must admit that my days of having the music playing all the time, like Ross, are pretty much gone now. We do music in the car, but it is, at least fairlyeclectic. You’ll be pleased to know my daughter Piper knows most of the lyrics of numerous June Christy cuts, particularly My Bier Mist Duchene, however it is actually spelled in German. I have some Christy on cd, and all of her on vinyl of course. I still particularly like the one where she’s remembering her songs with the Kenton orchestra, which I played numerous times in your presence when you lived on Spring and that funny little street and I had that tube amp in the console that I ruined taking it to NYC in 1985. We also have a fabulous Sinatra collection that my daughter just loves. She can do The Girl From Ipanema, and once sang along with these two buskers at the local hip mall who were doing samba stuff. They were blown away. I still love me some Bob Dylan, though not in the same way. And I still love me Steeleye Span and all that folk stuff from across the pond. New Music? My daughter Paige, BB’s child, turns me on to some things and is currently running a Facebook site for new bands in LA where she is living. I like, in particular, a band called The Decemberists. The lead vocal guy has a truly weird and cool voice. Anyway, glad to read you again. I too am retired though not by choice, as you know from my email blog. It is a weird state. I wish I could write something, but Gary Davidson pissed all over me last year for revealing too much of his life and it seems to have sucked the enthusiasm I had for the word right out of me. Well, he always wanted to suck me off. I imagine that was the trouble. Still having some trouble getting over the loss of Sandy. I did see John Ranyard in LA in June. That was very sweet. Nice fellow. Be well. Love the cat on your facebook self.

  2. Hey, Tim. Thanks for finding me. I haven’t done much to publicize this blog. Are you on my Facebook page? I don’t really understand how FB works, don’t really like it much but seems to be the only way to keep up with online friends I’ve known a long time and don’t want to lose. Piper seems to be developing into a very cool young person. Sorry your enthusiasm for the word has been sucked away. I hope you get it back, you’re too good to not write. Maybe this will suck my enthusiasm, we’ll see. But I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t write, it’s been my main thing for so long.

  3. I actually don’t know what I’m doing. Luckily life has provided me with plenty of small things to keep me moving, cleaning, cooking, reading to my kid, doing the laundry. All the stuff I just did with Pat, but without the book writing part. I do FB mostly to keep up with Paige. But most of Kimb’s fam use FB to keep track of what everybody is doing and to express how much they really love each other. Pretty much the opposite of my fam. I’ll send you a friend request on FB. There are lots of pics of Piper on my FB page, so its worthwhile. Other then relatives and old friends, mostly I have leftie politics. And if you are not friends with George Takei, you should be. The guy who played Sulu on the 1st star trek and who is charmingly gay and passionate. He posts good weird humor and some gay politics. Worthwhile, I assure you. I guess I’ll just have to contend with aging on my own, without poetry or fiction. The occasional comment to a blog, eh? I read McMurtry’s Rhino Ranch yesterday,t he fifth Duane book (last pic show, texasville, duanes depressed, when the light goes and this). On the last page Duane died. It just happened as you know it must. Lots of folks died along the way, of course. that is one of the worst parts of growing old. I recommend it if you can find it for $4 remaindered or at the library. McM doesn’t need anymore of our money. Hey did you hear he married Faye Kesey, Ken’s widow? They have known each other since Stanford daysin the sixties. Better for him by far then Cybill Shepherd. All I got. T.

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