I saw a picture of my puppy. I was slightly stunned to see how mature, elegant and regal she looked.
When I look at her I still see her as a little puppy, the little girl who played “Alligator: with me, where she’d hide under the bed and try and pull me into her “swamp”.
The serious little girl who stayed with me in the hospital growling at the nurses when they came in and constantly looking up and checking on me. The puppy who went to therapy dog school and played tricks on me but still tried her hardest to please me. And the young lady who won a second level discipline obedience class while never having attended any obedience classes.
I look at her and I see all those puppies and dogs and they shrink down into one who waits for me.
She’s my dog. We belong to each other.
I miss my other two dogs plenty. The gentle dog misses me too. The giant dog . . . who knows what thoughts go through his brain.
I set my alarm clock to wake me with radio, then I set the station to a top 40 pop station. Nothing gets me out of bed faster than turning off a top 40 tune blaring from a cheap radio.
A few days ago I was startled to hear a Jason Mraz tune. I’m not a fan, but I’d been working on a tune for the past few weeks. I’m always working on a tune the past few weeks, at least in my head. This one I was stumbling around with the lyrics, trying to clarify and enunciate some feelings. The harder I worked on it the more obscure things became, until I heard this Jason Mraz track, “Lucky”.
The chorus pretty well summed up everything I was struggling to say in verse after verse: “We feel lucky to be in love with our best friend”.
And that was it. That was all I was trying to say.
I’m never too sure how I feel about having my lofty emotions perfectly encapsulated in a pop song . . . but there you go.
I guess the lesson is to always say things as simply as possible and to avoid the glitter and too much deep thought. Hey, maybe Jason Mraz is a genius! I still work off the standard that anyone who can do something that I can’t must be a genius. I still got ego.
I have been hearing some interesting music lately. I guess everyone is psyched by the Jack White/Wand Jackson collaboration. Watching the numerous videos is a two edged sword. Seeing Wanda, my adolescent throbbing need, be real 50 years later is too much for me to comprehend or accept. ut that’s offset by Jack White. He’s pulled together one of the best rock bands I’ve ever heard and with him DANCIN’ around the stage in his cat clothes and playing band leader is as thrilling as being at the birth of rock itself.
The record’s not bad either.
The other band is strange. they took their name from a Sonics’ cut and even cover a Sonic’s tune. And somehow they’ve become a country band??
I first heard “Boss Hoss” when someone sent me a demo of them covering the Rolling Stones’ “Mother’s Little Helper”. I thought they were strange but great. I just assumed they were another garage revival band with enough talent and attitude to take things to their own level.
Their latest album is “Low Voltage” and its insane. The band looks like a 21st century Tex-Mex Salsa outfit. Too many guys in cowboy hats. The album is filled with brass, strings and fiddles, bass saxaphones and harmonicas and, of course, guitars filled with truck driver 8 part harmoney and it sounds about as country as the White Stripes meet the Beat Farmers. A distinctive and welcome sound.
That’s it. Still working. Still suffering. Still trying to get my wife into this country (legally). And looking to survive the newer ages.