I guess it's no secret, I enjoy writing - and I'm very thankful that upon occasion one happens by here. As a youth, I could listen to a song, even repeat a good portion of the lyrics and still not pay one hill of beans attention to what the artist meant, or was trying to say for years and years...
As an older fart now I kinda listen to 'em. Sometimes songs can even be an impetus (to me anyways) to write.
As I sat in my easy chair this morning, still fairly newly retired - the very first word that came to mind was silence. Pardon my Fre (that's an abbreviated "French") silence is, can be a 'mofo.' It's good in a way as one exits the commute, the office desk, cubicle, constant break chatter, he said/she saids, cussing in traffic (even if the other guy weighs 260), and standing in watch of one's bank balance depleting as you pour gasoline into your tank to fill it up.
Think it's time we stop now, what's that sound.......
No, that ain't it.
But, on the side of "I'm so dadgum happy I'm no longer working, I'm enjoying this newfound silence" comes:
Damn I'm bored. It's my fault, but I am. It's toooo silent.
Then again I think "I kinda likes that... twelve straight games of Sudoku (where I even win a few) makes one's eyes tired, so I retire to nap. I always peek at the clock before I sink into bed so thataway I can tell myself when I awaken "Ok, you slept an hour, you should be good to go" - or -
"Victor, you only napped 20 minutes, maybe you'll have to take another one later." OK, I like your thinking.
So I was gonna do a Sounds of Silence and copy/paste the lyrics, and in reading what all they meant, it was about 'people talking without speaking, people hearing without listening" - and I thought "hell, I can jump into a Facebook political post and get all that in a millisecond.. nah, nevermind."
The below is supposed to be an old nursery rhyme, with added lyrics by Simon, sung by Garfunkel. Maybe about a flame? Maybe about the changing of seasons?
I tend to moreso think of it as how fleeting life is. Recently read a cousin's email on how they'd attended 7 grandson basketball games on Saturday, and 4 more yesterday. Reading the email, thinking about how tired I'da been after that, I almost wanted to take a nap.. THEN, the thought came to mind "how cool is that, you are GREAT grandparents, and we all realize how quickly that comes and goes." Fleeting, it's all so fleeting.
April, come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain
May, she will stay
Resting in my arms again
There is seemingly no silence in April or May - be it the sounds of rain on the roof, or lawnmowers a buzzin'. We're too young to get tired, and too simple to stop and think "It ain't gonna last."
June, she'll change her tune
In restless walks she'll prowl the night
July, she will fly
And give no warning to her flight
We're getting tired, but on we go we must. Time oh time, where have you gone. This maybe will all one day end.
August, die she must
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold
September, I'll remember
A love once new has now grown old
Heck no, at our age, we ain't deathly... We're in reflection. We toss and turn between "I want what once was" and "This really ain't bad. Maybe the sounds of silence is golden."
1979, I remember it like it was yesterday. Emmitt Thomas was a safety for the Kansas City Chiefs. Emmitt held (still holds) the interception record (58) for the Kansas City Chiefs. He was 'aged' in athletic years in 1979 (which, from 8th grade until then it's like 19 years of football.) The Chiefs had this annual 'timed run' at the end of training camp. I don't remember how far, how many laps - but I will never forget Emmitt's last one. He started out like April.. seemed to be 'staying' as he made it to May.. June changed his tune.. July he did not fly.. August, his quest to continue as a professional football player vanished, ended, he stopped before the finish line. He retired after that race. Yes it was sad, but yes, that's what happens and we deal with it, or not. In the span of that race I was reminded how fleeting life is. As the gun to start the race happened, Emmitt was caught in "I want what once was." Life, races, months, seasons, they are fleeting.
Ain't meant to be a depressing blog. Just means life changes, and that's ok. Sometimes silence is a very good thing, sometimes it ain't. Refreshing to remember, the good Lord willing, that's usually our call.
Happy to end, report that #11 (one in the same Emmitt Thomas) just completed his 75th year in life as the secondary backs coach for our Kansas City Chiefs. From his youthful shoes, he's still in April/May.
April, come she will.
Love, Victurd
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