146/365 Shattered

Shadoobie.

—The Rolling Stones

145/365 Sugar Mountain

Oh, to live on Sugar Mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons
You can’t be twenty on Sugar Mountain
Though you're thinking that
You’re leaving there too soon
You’re leaving there too soon

This Neil Young song makes me feel . . . well, certainly no more than nineteen.

144/365 Stairway to Heaven

And it’s whispered that soon, if we all call the tune
Then the piper will lead us to reason
And a new day will dawn for those who stand long
And the forest will echo with laughter

The last-dance predecessor to “Free Bird,” of course, was Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven.” Because it was the last-dance song near the end of my middle school years and into the first bit of high school, it will always have a little bit of that you’re-still-alone-loser tint to it. For those with more of a social life, it’s probably more nostalgic. Perhaps we should ask Helen.

It’s too bad the piece was overexposed. It’s a good song. It’s got that almost hobbity feel that a few Zeppelin tunes manage to conjure.

And now I have blogged a gross of songs. How much longer can I possibly last?

143/365 Free Bird

If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me?
For I must be traveling on, now,
cause there’s too many places I’ve got to see.
But if I stayed here with you, girl,
Things just couldn’t be the same.
cause I’m as free as a bird now,
And this bird you can not change.

Does this happen anymore in high school? There’s a dance. There’s a last dance. And the last dance is always the same song.

By the end of high school for me, the last-dance song was Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Free Bird.” (Maybe I’ll discuss its predecessor tomorrow.)

I like Lynyrd Skynyrd. “Sweet Home Alabama,” for example, is a great song, even if it is too aggressive and conservative and gets its knickers in a twist over Neil Young.

And although it’s fun to get your stoner voice on and scream “Free Bird!,” I was never a fan of the last dance, having never danced it.

Whaddya do then? Do you sit on the bleachers and look longingly at the dance floor? Do you pack it up and leave while the song goes endlessly on and on? I vote for about 1 minute of (a), then, quickly, (b).

Tim and I are in the midst of a Buffy/Angel marathon. In Buffy the Vampire Slayer season 4, the character Giles gets a few opportunities to sing. The Scooby Gang walks in on him one night to find him singing “Free Bird.” When you hear Tony Head, alone with his guitar, crooning this, you may think, like I did, “Wow. This really is a pretty song.” Even though, once again, the message is “There are things [that have to be] way more important to me than you.”

142/365 Dedicated to the One I Love

While I’m far away from you my baby
I know it’s hard for you my baby
Because it’s hard for me my baby
And the darkest hour is just before dawn

It’s starting again. Tim’s off to Portland today, back and forth all summer long. I hope that I’ll be joining him for a week in July, but what with all the contractors coming this summer to suck up the rest of my savings account and make my backyard look backyardish again—as opposed to a the dumping ground for slate-formerly-known-as-a-foundation, which it currently is—I may not get to go. No matter what, Tim and I will be spending a lot of nights apart.

I’m still a sucker for the Mamas and the Papas, especially Cass. And this is a sweet song for those in the throes of apartdom.

Each night before you go to bed my baby
Whisper a little prayer for me my baby
And tell all the stars above
This is dedicated to the one I love

141/365 I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl

I want a little sugar
in my bowl
I want a little sweetness
down in my soul
I could stand some lovin’
Oh so bad
I feel so funny and I feel so sad.

Ah, euphemisms. This is one of my favorites.

Tim’s crazy summer travel schedule has started, and he’s “home” for about 40 hours (minus that pesky office time).

So here’s some Nina Simone.

140/365 Put Your Lights On

I spent all yesterday washing windows. I’m still not quite done. Tired, though.

One of the CDs that accompanied my labors yesterday was Santana’s Supernatural. I like this collaboration with Everlast, although its message may be ambiguous.

Cause there’s a monster living under my bed
Whispering in my ear
There’s an angel, with a hand on my head
She say I’ve got nothing to fear