In The Weeds

Thirteen years ago today we lost my brother David very suddenly. We lost not only a sibling, but a best friend. He was just twenty-six. He was the proud father of a seventeen-month old son, with another on the way. This was one of his favorites and I dedicate it to his memory, and to all those who have gone through similar tragedy. Thousands of days can pass; yet the wound remains raw.

One of my earliest childhood memories is singing along to songs as my mother drove around delivering newspapers from her car. I remember hearing songs that would stay with me the rest of my life. I also remember being brought to tears and begging to change the station by either songs that were too sad, or just plain terrible. At least to a toddler’s ears. At my elementary school we had no preschool or kindergarten, so my school memories started with first grade. It was the first time I was in the same room with a real guitar, when the music teacher would make her weekly visit to our class. Up until then the guitar had only been something I saw on television, or in the windows of music stores. Hearing the beautiful sounds those strings made when she strummed them, I thought “this must be what it sounds like in heaven“. I still remember the first song that music teacher played for us, all the way back in 1973. It was “Michael, Row The Boat Ashore”.  I definitely can trace my love f...

he rises long before dawn just to face another day a boxer’s caught in the ropes punch drunk in his own way Holy Jesus, I don’t know how he does this the hot steam rises from that same old broken cup I remember how it burns his hand as he hopes for some better luck Holy Jesus  I don’t know how he does this over and over  again his road is so well traveled he might as well drive it blind the miles pass like the sunsets in the mirror behind him the years keep on rolling by like so many falling leaves dropping from the sky that one day will be calling him back home Holy Jesus  I don’t know how he does this over and over  again this ain’t no deperate prayer I’m hoping he can say no , its just a worn out legacy til he passes away

Today I had to have my first follow-up bloodwork taken to see how the thyroid meds I started taking in January are working. I braced myself for a couple hours lost from an otherwise productive day. Since I am under the care of an endo doc at MGH I figured I would have to haul myself into downtown Boston to get tested. Dealing with the traffic, the tolls, the parking fees and the lost time from work. You know, fun stuff like that. How pleased was I to find out that the satellite branch they have here in Waltham would do the test . Not only was it not more than a bit out of the way of my commute to work, but THERE WAS FREE PARKING! I was in and out in about ten minutes, but I easily spent eight of those minutes wandering the unfamiliar halls looking for the office. Turned out that they are only listed on one of the first floor directories. Guess which one I checked?

it always seemed to be right out the chute we're mired in the sand and the rescue rope you threw to me  only left its burns on my hands  sometimes you  seem like time standing still it never does for me there's not much more to say when I built it all up just to watch it blow away lately we've been like that fading bird in the sun we found under that tree it's hard to get close even harder to read what you wrote for me sometimes you  seem like time standing still it never does for me there's not much more to say when I built it all up just to watch it blow away if i could you know  i'd  catch you when you run to keep you forever in my arms sometimes you seem like time standing still it never does for me there's not much more to say when I built it all up just to watch it blow away