Just One Song
It seems I just can’t get into music any more. I no longer listen to music while at home. I live in silence, essentially. I believe I’ve beaten and blogged this particular subject/dilemma to death already, but I still find it all so very, very strange.
I do listen to music in my car, on occasion. My car happens to have a wonderful audio system, and it is a pleasure to listen to music within that confined space. I had the BoDeans on auto-replay for seemingly forever. Several days ago, I cued up What A Good Boy by the Barenaked Ladies. It’s been a personal favorite for many years. I’ve been listening to this particular song over and over and over again, lately. It has gotten under my skin. It fits my mood, my state of mind. For you see, I, too, am now suffering through my “hair shirt years” and this song captures elemental emotions inside of me.
It’s not that the lyrics dovetail perfectly with my emotions. They do not. But they come close. It’s more a matter of Steve Page’s voice.
I love that man’s voice. So crystalline, so melodic, so resonant, so absolutely perfect for this particular song. The production values are killer, too (props to the producer/engineer, Michael Phillip-Wojewoda).
The lyrics, alone, do not reveal the essence of the song. It is a song, after all…it must be heard…not read.
At any rate, it appears this song will be my signature tune for the foreseeable future. I think I’ve listened to it about fifty times, or so, in recent days. I’ll probably keep listening to it for many more months to come (then again, one never knows…)
* * *
What A Good Boy
When I was born, they looked at
me and said
what a good boy, what a smart
boy, what a strong boy.
And when you were born, they
looked at you and said
what a good girl, what a smart
girl, what a pretty girl.
We've got these chains hanging
around our necks,
people want to strangle us with
them before we take our first
breath.
Afraid of change, afraid of staying
the same,
when temptation calls, we just
look away.
Chorus:
This name is the hair shirt I wear,
and this hair shirt is woven from
your brown hair.
This song is the cross that I bear,
bear it with me, bear with me,
bear with me,
be with me tonight,
I know that it isn't right,
but be with me tonight.
I go to school, I write exams,
if I pass, if I fail, if I drop out, does
anyone give a damn?
And if they do, they'll soon forget
'cause it won't take much for me
to show my life ain't over yet.
I wake up scared, I wake up
strange,
I wake up wondering if anything
in my life is ever going to change.
I wake up scared, I wake up
strange
and everything around me stays
the same.
[Chorus]
I couldn't tell you I was
wrong,
chickened out, grabbed a pen and
paper, sat down and I wrote this
song.
I couldn't tell you that you were
right,
so instead I looked in the mirror,
and I watched tv, laid away all night.
We've got these chains, hanging
'round our necks,
people want to strangle us with
them before we take our first
breath.
Afraid of change, afraid of staying
the same,
when temptation calls ...
[Chorus]
When I was born, they looked at
me and said
What a good boy, what a smart
boy, what a strong boy.
And when you were born, they
looked at you and said
what a good girl, what a smart
girl, what a pretty girl, hey.
(I just listened to the song about a dozen more times. Yup. It works for me.)
* * *
I do listen to music in my car, on occasion. My car happens to have a wonderful audio system, and it is a pleasure to listen to music within that confined space. I had the BoDeans on auto-replay for seemingly forever. Several days ago, I cued up What A Good Boy by the Barenaked Ladies. It’s been a personal favorite for many years. I’ve been listening to this particular song over and over and over again, lately. It has gotten under my skin. It fits my mood, my state of mind. For you see, I, too, am now suffering through my “hair shirt years” and this song captures elemental emotions inside of me.
It’s not that the lyrics dovetail perfectly with my emotions. They do not. But they come close. It’s more a matter of Steve Page’s voice.
I love that man’s voice. So crystalline, so melodic, so resonant, so absolutely perfect for this particular song. The production values are killer, too (props to the producer/engineer, Michael Phillip-Wojewoda).
The lyrics, alone, do not reveal the essence of the song. It is a song, after all…it must be heard…not read.
At any rate, it appears this song will be my signature tune for the foreseeable future. I think I’ve listened to it about fifty times, or so, in recent days. I’ll probably keep listening to it for many more months to come (then again, one never knows…)
* * *
What A Good Boy
When I was born, they looked at
me and said
what a good boy, what a smart
boy, what a strong boy.
And when you were born, they
looked at you and said
what a good girl, what a smart
girl, what a pretty girl.
We've got these chains hanging
around our necks,
people want to strangle us with
them before we take our first
breath.
Afraid of change, afraid of staying
the same,
when temptation calls, we just
look away.
Chorus:
This name is the hair shirt I wear,
and this hair shirt is woven from
your brown hair.
This song is the cross that I bear,
bear it with me, bear with me,
bear with me,
be with me tonight,
I know that it isn't right,
but be with me tonight.
I go to school, I write exams,
if I pass, if I fail, if I drop out, does
anyone give a damn?
And if they do, they'll soon forget
'cause it won't take much for me
to show my life ain't over yet.
I wake up scared, I wake up
strange,
I wake up wondering if anything
in my life is ever going to change.
I wake up scared, I wake up
strange
and everything around me stays
the same.
[Chorus]
I couldn't tell you I was
wrong,
chickened out, grabbed a pen and
paper, sat down and I wrote this
song.
I couldn't tell you that you were
right,
so instead I looked in the mirror,
and I watched tv, laid away all night.
We've got these chains, hanging
'round our necks,
people want to strangle us with
them before we take our first
breath.
Afraid of change, afraid of staying
the same,
when temptation calls ...
[Chorus]
When I was born, they looked at
me and said
What a good boy, what a smart
boy, what a strong boy.
And when you were born, they
looked at you and said
what a good girl, what a smart
girl, what a pretty girl, hey.
(I just listened to the song about a dozen more times. Yup. It works for me.)
* * *
* * *
posted by Jonas | 12/07/2006 12:41:00 AM
5 Comments:
I know and like that song as well. I seem to cycle through theme songs, one a month or so. They don't always relate directly to me, but are almost always in tune with my mind's projected me. If that makes sense.
I will get back to the blog soon. Life has taken an unexpected turn (toward the Midwest) and I've been neglecting a handful of things as a result. Thanks for the encouragement though, it's nice to know there's someone out there waiting.
I'm actually brewing a post that was inspired by your venture capital entry. I've been thinking a lot about the power and lack of real intelligence in the nonprofit sector. Big hearts are second only to big minds (though the second, I think, leads back to the first) when it comes to solving the world's problems. I'll try to spit something constructive on the topic before long.
Oh, and completely unrelated, but I'd like to tap your running expertise if I may. How long should I give shin splints to recover? I boosted my running significantly this last month and my body wasn't ready for it. My legs felt like fire and I have major knots on the fronts of my shins. I've been on the cardio bike for the last week, wondering how much longer I should stay off the paths.
Take care and stay out of the cold.
Ah. A post about the nonprofit sector. I'd like to hear/read your thoughts on that. I'm sure Ms. Eleanor would, as well. There's got to be a way for her to do some good work in Thailand.
Now we shift to shin splints and the enthusiasms of youth. Although I've suffered shin splints every now and then, I've never suffered a bad case. Sounds like you did some damage, Reb. Shin splints are, in essence, multiple micro-tears as muscle rips away from bone. If you've got knots on the shin you've developed some scar tissue. Try to gradually massage them out...or they'll continue to plague you. Recovery time is dependent on how aggressively you treated the inflammation in the first place. If you iced religiously and swallowed gobs of Ibuprophen, at the onset, you should be good to go after a week or two. If you let the condition fester and grow, you may be in for a longer recovery. Your legs will let you know. Don't run if your shins hurt. Simply don't run until you are pain free. Some runners strengthen the muscles by dangling their legs off a counter with paint cans hanging from their feet, then doing sets of toe raises, but not to the point of pain. Feeling pain during recovery means you are simply hurting yourself. Stay pain-free, then hit the trails...gradually. Try walking for a while. You've just learned the first big lesson in running: Never ramp up too fast!
Grief (and that afflicts us all, at some time or other) does strange things to the music in our heads.
One time long ago, I found I simply had to go out and buy a stack of new records, just because I couldn't bear to listen to the old ones any more. They all held such painful memories that I found my entire music collection had mutated into a grizzly soundtrack of the past.
That state lasted a fair while, and my record collection benefitted in new ways as I found a range of quite new music, and then later on, I found my old music returning, song by individual song.
Strangely though, I found my list of favourites had changed in unexpected ways. Some of the songs I had avoided grew back even stronger into my mind, others lost their relevance completely, and several of the 'new' songs stayed.
Music clearly runs deep within the soul. It'll come back.
Shin splints are deceptive. They go away quite quickly, and yet they all too easily persist and can become chronic if not sufficiently respected.
The best treatment you will find, s_r, if you have been a fairly sporadic runner who now runs further and more often, is to buy yourself some decent and very expensive running shoes from a proper running store with staff who know about running.
It takes some effort, a deep breath on talking to the shop assistant (who meet new runners every day, by the way) and a little money. But believe me, it's really worth it.
You wouldn't go out in your car with dodgy tyres. And yet your car is only metal, and replaceable at that. Your legs are not so easily serviced, and deserve the very best shock absorbers you can find.
Sufficient recovery, followed by new and proper running shoes. That really is an instant and effective cure for shinsplints in many cases. I hope that works for you just as it did for me when first I started to run more regularly a few years ago.
I appreciate your thoughts, Roads. I've been writing about this strange period of silence from the earliest days of this blog. Something has fundamentally changed inside of me. Music has been ever-present in my life for as long as I can remember - through all times - the very best and the very worst. I have about 100 CD's sitting on a coffee table that I've purchased over the past year, yet I have no desire to listen. It's unsettling to me because the silence is so unusual, and so prolonged. Just another surprise that life served up.
I wonder how it will all end?
By the way, Reb...Roads is quite an accomplished runner with an amazing blog of his own.
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