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Night of the Bards
Oct. 28th, 2006 06:48 pmI wrote this back in '03, but that was on Diaryland and, well, the words still hold true:
I haven't known many Bards in my life... but many have touched it unknowingly. Laugh all you want, but John Denver was one. He wrote and sang about love of the land, of the mountains, of simple pleasures and the pain that comes of doing one's duty when one wants to simply play... and the rightness of accepting that pain and the satisfaction that comes of doing what was right. He brought comfort. He was ridiculed for singing of simple things - well, he was ridiculed a lot more by folks who'd never known the mountains or the crisp new-born air of a snowtop, or the plain and comfortable joy of relaxing with one's family in your own home than he was by folks back home. He put into words what we felt in our hearts.
So he sang of the things I love and I found comfort in the songs. "I am the eagle, I live in High Country, in rocky cathedrals that reach to the sky....". The song soars above you just like the sight of an eagle on a mountain thermal - grand, free, clean. Hovering above you so impossibly and yet true.
I lived my whole young life in the mountains. I never knew a flat horizon save on the sea... it took years to adapt to the sad sight of a clear, lonely skyline. No more touching the stars, no more dark shadows against the night sky. No more orange/pink/deep purple backdrops to our mornings and evenings. We lived in Denver at the same time that the by-then famous JD lived above the city with his wife and family in a small community town. Folks "down below" left him alone and gave him privacy. I never saw him in concert. I never really needed to. I was teaching needlework back then, for one of those weird home-party companies - one of my students was a dear old lady who'd spent part of her life as John's babysitter when his military daddy was stationed nearby. She'd tell me stories of the boy she knew and chuckle over how he'd grown up.
He brought love, and a pride in that love, of the land and the wilderness to the hearts of so many people. And he died following his bliss, flying across the Pacific waters in his own plane. Probably writing a new song while he was doing it.
He wasn't the only musician who touched me in an inarticulate place deep in my psyche. Jim Croce, Harry Chapin, oh and so much... George Gershwin. Ah, "Rhapsody in Blue". There was a boy-genius in Jr. High who'd play it for me whenever I looked sad and strained (this was when my mother's illness had gone to severe and untreatable). Sometimes I only made it to an hour or so of school but he'd always be there by the piano and after our practises he'd softly play the intro to call me near. the other kids cleared the room to play at being grownups in the hall or on the way home. We stayed, pianist and audience, sharing the exubrience and tragedy of the piece. It was, for us, our life's stories. He had the whole piano part memorised thanks to a stage-pushing mother. He said he could forgive her for forcing it once he learned how much I loved it. We were never more than friends of the heart - and never needed to speak of our pain and love for our parents. That, we expressed in our music. I lost track of him when I left for St. Mary's... heard he'd given in and done the "child prodigy" concert rounds and burnt out by the time he was 20. Justin... I hope you're a happy middle-aged man now. Your playing stays in my heart. (It also makes it very difficult to find a suitable recording of 'Rhapsody', darn it, because I know *exactly* how it's supposed to sound. Lucky for you I found a Philadelphia Harmonics & Blues Star rendition of it. I don't know who's playing the woodwind, but it brings chills).
"Oh lay me down in Forest Lawn in a silver casket.
With golden flowers over my head in a silver basket.
The Drum & Bugle Corp. plays 'taps' while cannons roar
And 16 liveried employees sell souvenirs from the funeral store.
I want to go simply, when I go.
They'll give me a simple funeral there, I know.
With a casket lined in fleece and fireworks spelling out 'rest in peace',
Oh take me when I'm gone to Forest Lawn...."
I haven't known many Bards in my life... but many have touched it unknowingly. Laugh all you want, but John Denver was one. He wrote and sang about love of the land, of the mountains, of simple pleasures and the pain that comes of doing one's duty when one wants to simply play... and the rightness of accepting that pain and the satisfaction that comes of doing what was right. He brought comfort. He was ridiculed for singing of simple things - well, he was ridiculed a lot more by folks who'd never known the mountains or the crisp new-born air of a snowtop, or the plain and comfortable joy of relaxing with one's family in your own home than he was by folks back home. He put into words what we felt in our hearts.
So he sang of the things I love and I found comfort in the songs. "I am the eagle, I live in High Country, in rocky cathedrals that reach to the sky....". The song soars above you just like the sight of an eagle on a mountain thermal - grand, free, clean. Hovering above you so impossibly and yet true.
I lived my whole young life in the mountains. I never knew a flat horizon save on the sea... it took years to adapt to the sad sight of a clear, lonely skyline. No more touching the stars, no more dark shadows against the night sky. No more orange/pink/deep purple backdrops to our mornings and evenings. We lived in Denver at the same time that the by-then famous JD lived above the city with his wife and family in a small community town. Folks "down below" left him alone and gave him privacy. I never saw him in concert. I never really needed to. I was teaching needlework back then, for one of those weird home-party companies - one of my students was a dear old lady who'd spent part of her life as John's babysitter when his military daddy was stationed nearby. She'd tell me stories of the boy she knew and chuckle over how he'd grown up.
He brought love, and a pride in that love, of the land and the wilderness to the hearts of so many people. And he died following his bliss, flying across the Pacific waters in his own plane. Probably writing a new song while he was doing it.
He wasn't the only musician who touched me in an inarticulate place deep in my psyche. Jim Croce, Harry Chapin, oh and so much... George Gershwin. Ah, "Rhapsody in Blue". There was a boy-genius in Jr. High who'd play it for me whenever I looked sad and strained (this was when my mother's illness had gone to severe and untreatable). Sometimes I only made it to an hour or so of school but he'd always be there by the piano and after our practises he'd softly play the intro to call me near. the other kids cleared the room to play at being grownups in the hall or on the way home. We stayed, pianist and audience, sharing the exubrience and tragedy of the piece. It was, for us, our life's stories. He had the whole piano part memorised thanks to a stage-pushing mother. He said he could forgive her for forcing it once he learned how much I loved it. We were never more than friends of the heart - and never needed to speak of our pain and love for our parents. That, we expressed in our music. I lost track of him when I left for St. Mary's... heard he'd given in and done the "child prodigy" concert rounds and burnt out by the time he was 20. Justin... I hope you're a happy middle-aged man now. Your playing stays in my heart. (It also makes it very difficult to find a suitable recording of 'Rhapsody', darn it, because I know *exactly* how it's supposed to sound. Lucky for you I found a Philadelphia Harmonics & Blues Star rendition of it. I don't know who's playing the woodwind, but it brings chills).
"Oh lay me down in Forest Lawn in a silver casket.
With golden flowers over my head in a silver basket.
The Drum & Bugle Corp. plays 'taps' while cannons roar
And 16 liveried employees sell souvenirs from the funeral store.
I want to go simply, when I go.
They'll give me a simple funeral there, I know.
With a casket lined in fleece and fireworks spelling out 'rest in peace',
Oh take me when I'm gone to Forest Lawn...."
