gratitude

Gracias

January 1, 2010 by John 22 Comments

Thank you for 2009 and best wishes for 2010 to all in the RAMH universe (both visitors and, uh… visitees?) — especially to the proprietors of the following blogs: you collectively and separately inspired me, awed me, made me laugh out loud and ponder, stopped my breath, wonder what the hell I was doing calling myself a “blogger,” and wait eagerly for your next post, way out of proportion to my ability to return the favor.

In alphabetical order:

(Note: Many of you talented, industrious folks work with more than one site or blog, and your other presences are often just as powerful/meaningful as their main ones. Thanks for them, too, folks — especially Maggie for Violence Unsilenced, Marta for Words Are Art (etc., etc.), Moonrat for The Book Book, and Froog for Barstool Blues.)

Brief Fable for Our Time, Maybe, from the WIP

April 18, 2009 by John 3 Comments

Emrys ap Rhys, an 18th-century Welsh brewmaster-to-be, is bidding farewell to an old man he has met on his return from London to Wales. He and Charlie met during a steady rainfall, in the shelter of a lean-to attached to the back of an English family’s barn; they’ve shared what food they have, and Charlie has spoken mostly (but not entirely) unintelligible nonsense, without end, as they ate. Emrys himself has feigned muteness, lest his accent betray him, but wants to thank Charlie somehow for a favor he believes Charlie has done him. But how to do so, if he can’t speak…?

He reached up, removed the floppy cowhide headgear with the rough threadwork and narrow brim. It was soaked; he might as well go bareheaded, truly, though the sun would eventually come out and he might miss the scrap of shade. He had worn the hat on his way out of Wales, four years ago, and he had put it aside and not worn it again until setting forth from London. It was a poor thing, but — he reminded himself — he was a poor man for now, and Charlie a poorer man than he, and in such circumstances even a poor thing can be a very great thing. He held the hat out in his benefactor’s direction, looked at it and then at Charlie, and grunted and nodded.

Again the grin broke across the lower half of Charlie’s face, and his damp silver whiskers glittered with a brief bit of light from somewhere behind Emrys — a lantern in the farmhouse window, perhaps. The old bent fingers reached up greedily, latched onto the hat, twisted it a bit to wring some of the excess water from it, and perched it upon his head.

Emrys was never sure in later days and weeks, months and years, because except for the brief interlude of lucency Charlie had spoken little sense, or at least little that was sensible. Yet he managed to convince himself that the last words he heard from Charlie were grateful ones, long unheard, especially with such an assured tongue and throat: Dioch yn fawr.

Or so he told himself even as he nodded in reply, touched his forehead, and walked again in the direction of the rain-chilled woods, leather-clad feet squelching in the farmyard’s soggy ground.

Letting Go, with Thanks

November 28, 2008 by John 9 Comments

From whiskey river:

The wonder of a moment in which there is nothing but an upwelling of simple happiness is utterly awesome. Gratitude is so close to the bone of life, pure and true, that it instantly stops the rational mind, and all its planning and plotting. That kind of let go is fiercely threatening. I mean, where might such gratitude end?

(Regina Sara Ryan, Praying Dangerously)

Not from whiskey river:

Don’t pray when it rains if you don’t pray when the sun shines.

(Leroy “Satchel” Paige, New York Post, October 4, 1959)

…and:

My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither, but just enjoy your ice cream while it’s on your plate — that’s my philosophy.

(Thornton Wilder, “Sabiba,” The Skin of Our Teeth)

Finally, the song chosen to wrap up the Northern Exposure series. Not everyone is a fan of Iris Dement’s voice, but I think this is a great song. The performance was on Austin City Limits. (If you’d prefer to see the Northern Exposure version, it’s on YouTube as well — in a shorter and quite darkly lit video.)

Lyrics:

Our Town
(words and music by Iris Dement)

And you know the sun’s settin’ fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye but hold on to your lover
’cause your heart’s bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can’t you see the sun’s settin’ down on our town, on our town
goodnight

Up the street beside that red neon light
that’s where I met my baby on one hot summer night
He was the tender and I ordered a beer
It’s been forty years and I’m still sitting here

But you know the sun’s settin’ fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye but hold on to your lover
’cause your heart’s bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can’t you see the sun’s settin’ down on our town, on our town
goodnight

It’s here I had my baby’s and I had my first kiss
I’ve walked down Main Street in the cold morning mist
Over there is where I bought my first car
it turned over once but then it never went far

And I can see the sun settin’ fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye but hold on to your lover
’cause your heart’s bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can’t you see the sun’s settin’ down on our town, on our town
goodnight

I buried my Mama and I buried my Pa
They sleep up the street beside that pretty brick wall
I bring them flowers about every day
but I just gotta cry when I think what they’d say

If they could see how the sun’s settin’ fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye but hold on to your lover
’cause your heart’s bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can’t you see the sun’s settin’ down on our town, on our town
goodnight

Now I sit on the porch and watch the lightning-bugs fly
but I can’t see too good, I got tears in my eyes
I’m leaving tomorrow but I don’t wanna go
I love you my town, you’ll always live in my soul

But I can see the sun’s settin’ fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on I gotta kiss you goodbye but I’ll hold to my lover
’cause my heart’s ’bout to die
Go on now and say goodbye to my town, to my town
Can’t you see the sun’s settin’ down on my town, on my town
Goodnight, goodnight