Every once in a while someone creates a newer rendition of a song that is done so well that it becomes the version of the song in our minds. Johnny Cash did this with Nine Inch Nail’s Hurt. Israel Kamakawiwo’ole did this with Judy Garland’s Over the Rainbow. And in my mind Big Dipper’s song Drip Drop has done this with the song April Showers from the movie Bambi. Sometimes it takes a bear to breathe new life into a 73 year old song about a spring fawn getting wet in the woods.
Come here often?
But I’m still alive. Marathon training these days. Steamboat Classic 15k this weekend.
“Instead, it is that American spirit – that American promise – that pushes us forward even when the path is uncertain; that binds us together in spite of our differences; that makes us fix our eye not on what is seen, but what is unseen, that better place around the bend.”
Only the curious, if they live, have a tale worth telling.
Men kick friendship around like a football, but it doesn’t seem to crack. Women treat it like glass and it goes to pieces.
~Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Happy is he who still loves something he loved in the nursery: He has not been broken in two by time; he is not two men, but one, and he has saved not only his soul but his life.
~Gilbert K. Chesterton
I want to hear stories that embarrass because they are undeniable, stories that only old friends can tell because only they know them. There is little continuity between my present and my past, self inflicted for sure, but still troubling when I dwell on it.
Ask anyone who knows me, who spends time with me, what I was like in my youth.
They couldn’t know. To them I didn’t exist more than ten years ago.
Ask any of my friends from my past, who I grew up with, what I am like today.
They won’t know.
I have disconnected.