Holy Intermission

I recently found out about Lily Allen, and I've kinda been getting into her. And, of course, I think about things like God and human relationships and stuff. So while I work up a new post based on the intersection of recent thoughts, recent blogposts, and recent events, here's some musical God thoughts for y'all to enjoy.



"Him." I like the song, but I think maybe it's "Her..."

Hallelujah

Just found this sweet song by my friend AJ - definitely worth a listen!

Dreams

I used have a dream that recurred with ferocious regularity. In it I encountered a man who stood watching me, aloof and impassive, and very, very scary. In the dream I knew that this man threatened my existence, and at the beginning I would often think he was armed. He made no move toward me, yet I knew he would kill me if I didn't defend myself. I would attack him, viciously, with whatever was at hand – knives, guns, clubs, my fists. Whatever weapon I used, he absorbed my terrified violence without flinching, without backing up one inch nor raising one hand to deliver or ward off a blow. Bullets went through him, and did no damage; knives, fists, nothing harmed him in the least, nor even brought a change of expression. He stood still under the onslaught of my defense, watching me impassively, and I would realize his hands were empty. Desperate, I would continue to attack – even as the utter uselessness of my violence exploded into despair and hopelessness and wonder that any man could be so threatening while lifting not one finger to harm me.

It took years, and lots of therapy, to realize that the man was myself.

Last night I dreamed again. A woman sat nearby, aloof and impassive, yet warm, and very welcome. I wanted to impress her. I wanted her to like me. I went the stereo, which had BeBop Deluxe on it – a new CD, one I knew I loved, but not one of those I own. The haunting melody of "Adventures in a Yorkshire Landscape" played in my head. It is perhaps the most beautiful guitar riff I have ever heard. I went to play it for her; I was sure she would love it. I started searching through the songs with growing desperation, unable to find it yet sure it was on the CD. I wanted so badly for her to stay.

I was afraid she'd leave.

The Mule Kicks Ass

Friday night, June 20, Government Mule and Ratdog kicked off their Mighty High Summer Tour at the Cuthbert Amphitheater in Eugene, Oregon. I was there, sitting or dancing in the grass close to the bleachers, directly in front of center stage. On one side my brother peered through his high-class binoculars, on the other my niece and nephew texted each other, thumbs flying, while watching the band. Some of Sam's other friends and family sat on either side. As the sound flowed through me, I smiled so much my cheeks started aching.

I love music. I love rock 'n' roll. And these guys rocked.

Now, I've been a Grateful Dead fan for a very long time. I've spent countless hours listening to Jerry's sweet guitar licks and the Dead's endless jams that end too soon. I've crossed at least six state lines listening to just "Goin' Down the Road," not to mention all the other great songs. I think Bob Weir is great. My ticket says only that "Bob Weir & Ratdog will be playing – doesn't even mention Government Mule. And Ratdog did some great jams late in the show.

But… the Mule kicked their ass with a steady stream of electrifying, straight up rock 'n' roll.

With the late solstice-eve sun blazing in their faces, and the heat of the day still strong, sweat soaking their clothing, and clouds of marijuana smoke blowing over the crowd, the Mule played their heart out. I couldn't keep my feet still. I didn't try. I loved watching the drummer and guitarist playing off each other. I just let the long week's work bleed away and lived in the moment, completely absorbed in the music.

I didn't get down in the mosh pit in front of the band, but my brother's friend and his son did. It paid off. Thirteen-year-old Odin caught one of Warren Hayes' guitar picks. And Terry caught both of Matt Abts' battered drumsticks, one of them signed, and snagged one of the band's playlists for the show.

Sweet.