Another Labor Day Weekend
Meigs County, Ohio
September 1, 2013
We still make gags about not wearing white after Labor Day. What century did that come from anyway? Well, since I never wear white anyway, I guess a pass will be issued to me on this one.
To me, each season has become a milestone on the road of time. Of course, the road of time is a one way street so if you miss something en route, don’t look back… remember it if you must but accept the fact that it will never come again.
I have spent my life trying to find my right place in the world, and indeed I have wasted much time looking in all the wrong places… and that was my path. In today’s life I find that G_d indeed gives, and takes away. Some days He takes away more than he gives, but the gifts are always transcendental in a spiritual way.
Some of my friends who are younger than me say things like, ‘Seventy is the new fifty,’ or ‘You don’t look that old.’ Or whatever. Seventy is not the new fifty. Seventy something is well, seventy something. There are many things I used to do with ease that are difficult for me now. ‘Adaptation,’ my Dad used to say, ‘is the key to aging with grace.’ Easier said than done sometimes.
As an artist, I look at what is important to me in my art and craft. Sure, as a guitar player, I always look forward to improving my vocabulary. In my teaching and performing life I look at songs I wrote many, many years ago and I find that I still like and approach with fresh wonder on a regular basis. I taught my son, Zach, Been So Long while he was here this summer and he nailed it. I relearned Hamar Promenade so I could teach it to my Quah Class last weekend. I decided I’m going to bring the song back to our repertoire but the real point was I wondered about the creative process that was natural for me back then. I would never write a song like that today… I just don’t think musically like that any more. I used to focus on music first, now it’s the story… the lyrics that drive me. Today I see myself as a story teller and my music is the supportive wing that lets my little stories fly.
So much remains the same, but so much changes and sometimes one’s past life seems as ephemeral as a dream. You try to catch it in the morning… you can see it but it is as intangible as morning mist.
Labor Day Weekend… another year starts to slip away. I find myself starting to make mental lists of things I would like to accomplish while these goals are still realistic… Even as the list gather coherence, so of the items are already telling me, ‘You’re not going to get to me… but that’s all right.’ In the spirit of ‘Progress not perfection,’ it truly is one day… one mission at a time.
The world (which seems to keep turning in it’s own time regardless of my opinions on anything) is fraught with dangerous choices that I have little to say about. Trying to keep it real I just finished mowing about seven or eight acres and picking up all the grass clippings. Yes, yard care enthusiasts, I broke down and bought a grass sweeper to pull behind my tractor. When I went Lowe’s, I could have bought the thing assembled, but I figured, ‘How hard could it be? I’ll save fifty bucks this way!’ The instructions gave me an hour to complete the task… it took me two. BUT, I got it done and not only did I not lose any of the myriad parts, there were none left over. Reading instructions… what a concept!
My seven year old daughter is reading another chapter book upstairs. My almost sixteen year old son is enjoying the last couple of days of freedom before he is incarcerated in the system we choose to call High School. He is a sophomore and does not quite get the fact that the next three years will go by in the blink of an eye. I would like to slow down time for him but it would be like trying to hold back a river with your fingers. His moment of seniority will come.
Me… I’m going over to the Psylodelic Museum at the Fur Peace Ranch in an hour or so and sit around with guitar in hand hopeful that some citizens will stop by to enjoy what we have to offer. Perhaps I’ll get to share some stories, pick some music.
How did I get here today? Where did I come from? It just happened… like that dream I think I had.
There is still more to be written, but for now, I think I’ll cook my daughter some lunch.
Happy Labor Day Weekend everyone!