62/365 Donald and Lydia

But dreamin’ just comes natural
Like the first breath from a baby
Like sunshine feedin’ daisies
Like the love hidden deep in your heart.

This is not my favorite John Prine song. But it is typical of his gut-wrenching, raw ballad style. This one nails the isolation and loneliness of its characters so well, it makes me squirm. I heard it yesterday when I was purchasing a pair of pink flamingoes. I told the young saleswoman I hadn’t heard Prine in a long time. She said she’d gone to see him a couple of years ago. I didn’t tell her about the first time I saw him, in a university auditorium in the early eighties, when he was pretty clearly wasted. He’d light a cigarette, then stick it in up by the pegs while he played, never letting it burn the guitar. Subsequent performances I attended were much tighter.

The clip I found on Youtube is nice, Prine singing alone on the river, but it’s the second part of that 10 minutes. Let it load, then search, unless you’d like to hear “Paradise” too (and who wouldn’t?).

61/365 Maggie’s Farm

Yesterday I went to a coffeehouse to pick up some decent dark roast for life back in rural Vermont. Dylan’s “Maggie’s Farm” blared. The room was filled with both bohemians and bespectacled businessmen—the little round glasses of the latter nose-perched between eyes and laptop screen. None seemed to be working on Maggie’s farm no more, but it’s not always obvious.

60/365 Play That Funky Music

Yes, I love this song. At first hearing, I likely found it silly, but it grew on me. After-school afternoons, my next-door neighbor played the Wild Cherry album over and over in her room. It was a welcome respite from her Osmonds obsession (also a good band, but enough is enough). A few years ago I bought the CD in a fit of needing to hear “Play That Funky Music” immediately. Thing is, I like the whole funky album.

59/365 Roller Derby Queen

She was five-foot-six, two-fifteen
A bleached-blonde mama with a streak of mean . . .

Well she might be nasty, she might be fat
But I never met a person who would tell her that.

I went to the roller derby last Saturday. My first time. I’d been dying to go ever since I found out one of Tim’s Portland coworkers was in a league. I was finally in town for a bout. Our friend is at least five-foot-six, but I’m guessing she doesn’t hit the scales at even one-fifteen. I’m also guessing that the weight differential between the lightest and heaviest out there was a good 150 pounds. That alone was cool.

I love to skate. But before last week, the bulk of my roller derby exposure came from the Jim Croce song.

58/365 I Do the Rock

I admit to an undying loyalty to Tim Curry. I realize his overall oeuvre lacks consistency. But ever since he appeared in the Rocky Horror Picture Show as Dr. Frank N. Furter, my heart has belonged to him. Makes me oooh-oooh . . . shake. Makes me wanna . . .

I was in the room with him once, during his Spamalot run.

In college I was a fan of a couple of his albums. My favorite track to blast is “I Do the Rock.” A grand gold mine of cultural references. My favorite verse is the political one, and it goes like this:

Carter, Begin, and Sadat
Brezhnev, Teng, and Castro
Every day negotiate us closer to disastro
Idi Amin and the Shah
and Al Fatah is quite bizarre
I could never get the hang of ideology
I do the rock

You can watch Curry do the rock here. I also found a fun website, “The Annotated ‘I Do the Rock,’” with explanations for each verse.

It’s stimulating! I’m a keen student!

57/365 Istanbul (Not Constantinople)

My sister-outlaw turned me onto They Might Be Giants oh-so-many moons ago. I think by the time she did, she was actually my ex-sister-outlaw. I became a big fan of Flood. No doubt I’ll mention a couple of original TMBG songs eventually, but listening to their cover of “Istanbul (Not Constantinople)” is always so much fun, I just had to include it on this dark, rainy day, as the world turns back to winter for another week. Apparently the song’s lyricist, Jimmy Kennedy, also penned “Teddy Bears’ Picnic.” Check out this looney tune. Why did Constantinople get the works? That’s nobody’s business but the Turks.

56/365 A Special Christmas Box

For the April fools

Here are the risks: Given the more than 19 million Youtube hits, I’m betting a number of you have seen this video already. Also, it’s possible (I have to acknowledge this) that you’ll find it offensive. Regardless, I’m putting it out there. This Andy Samberg/Justin Timberlake song made me laugh long—and hard.

Truly, it’s the women’s appreciative reactions that make this piece work.

Happy April Fools’ Day. It’s the gift that’s not just for Christmas, Hanukkah, and Kwanzaa anymore.