#15: You Ain't Going Nowhere -- Shawn Colvin, Mary Chapin Carpenter and Rosanne Cash (1992)

This is a Dylan song that I heard for the first time in junior high (8th grade or thereabouts) when I put my brothers copy of The Byrd's Sweetheart of the Rodeo on his turntable. It was country, and I liked the song, but it did not make that much of an impact on me. When I heard this recording from the 30th Anniversary CD that Rachel bought, it blew me away.

The lyrics have always appealed to me. Looking forward to good times and discarding the rough times, Dylan writes get your mind off wintertime/you ain't going nowhere. This could be a veiled warning or an expression that you will stay in summer. I've tended to read it as the latter. But then,  I suppose I am an optimist. This may be quite surprising to some people, but those who know me best would probably agree that I am. Dylan wrote this song at a time when he was recovering from his motorcycle accident in 1966. I ran into this song when I was in Iowa City, struggling through a third unproductive year of crap at the University.

I am particularly drawn to the lyric strap yourself to a tree with roots/you ain't goin nowhere. Perhaps it is a different song if a woman is singing it; the more I think about it, the difference between Graham Parsons and Colvin, Carpenter and Cash lay in the nexus of belief, trust and control. Belief and trust are two very different things. We can have both in ourselves, but it means so much more when someone else has those things in us. It gives us power to do things that we never thought possible.

One thing that I complain about with the current crop of students that I deal with is this. They believe in themselves, yet constantly need affirmation. Maybe this is due to parents who moan about AP classes and assorted crap. OMG! MY CHILD GOT A 3 ON THE AP EURO TEST! parents, don't treat your children like receptacles of failure, but don't kiss their asses either. There is a balance to be struck to forge adults.

The last verse purposefully does not rhyme, in that


Genghis Khan could not keep
All his general supplied with sleep
We'll climb that hill no matter how steep
When we get up to it

Right on. The message of this song is to take what you have, be purposefully happy with it, and go on. Problems are in the future, and some of those you will never have dreamed of in 1000 years. Climb 'em when you get there; if you worry about how things should be, you will never see the hill that gives you meaning.

I am not a parent, and I do not know what being a parent entails. My father was less a dad to me than my brother was. My mother was caring and very supportive but maintained a distance that I am still uncomfortable with. They did the best job possible for them, and I have my own problems. Those problems are my own; some roots are with my folks, but

Get your mind off wintertime
You ain't goin' nowhere

The wintertime is cold, colorless. It is not dead; there is life beneath that crust. The past is truly dead, but we keep it alive through our choices. As I am over 40, I am just beginning to realize this and desperately working to bend the passages my former choices produced. We all get there, it just takes some people longer if they get the chance. We need to help them notice the chances. When we see those chances, and people taking them, there is cause for celebration.

Oh oh, are we gonna fly
Down in the easy chair!


.

San Francisco Cantos I and II

I.
Shadows of Haight phantoms of movements
angry drunks and street musicians
hookah shops and vintage clothes.
Need any weed? 
Anarchist bookstore owners haggle
over refunds while the ghosts stare down
from their shelves. Tourists elbow past looking
for something, anything. Take those pictures
on the famous corner while the addicts yell
Fuck you, man! I ain't sharing nothing with you!
Got a picture of Jerry in your window?
Got a tye-dyed shirt with a skull and a bear
trading on Old Gods Long Dead?
Got a picture of Janis, George and Levon?

II.
The shop wanted thirteen dollars for
a fried green tomato sandwich with
something called aioli. In Georgia it would
run about four dollars or less. Pay for
convenience and ambiance and look out
the window in the break in wifely conversation
and see drunks and twentysomethings
and technicolor spectres of ancient pasts.
Shove your aioli
and your homemade mayo
and your five dollar french fries
made from one sustainably grown spud.
Expensive with a taste that I can
recreate at home. Is that your message?
That we should not drive here to eat
food that can be done at home for
less cost and less gas?

#14: Scenes from an Italian Restaurant -- Billy Joel (1977)

This is again one of those songs that I know from Bill. Billy Joel was his favorite musician, and for some reason this song has made appearances over the past few weeks.

1. While we were in Vegas, John off handedly said "bottle of red, bottle of white" and I replied "Whatever kind of mood you're in tonight." Yes, I know. Nerdy.

2. When I told this to Rachel, she got that "What?" look on her face when I reference something that she does not know. So, I had to do a bit of the song.

The song is in three sections: people get together who were friends in, you guessed it, an Italian Restaurant. Joined by a sax solo, they reminisce about old times and catch each other up.

As I get older, it is fascinating how much songs change meaning. When I was in high school, this song was Bill's domain of last chances and lost people. When Joel sings "Things are OK with me these days" and rattles off a list of things that end with "fine" we all know it to be bull shit, but I bought it as a 14 year old. New office, wife meant things were good. I was a materialist even then, obsessed with how much I make.

And then the conversation turns to Brenda and Eddie, high school sweethearts who get married. As someone who married their high school sweetheart, this area of the song has special resonance for precisely the right reasons. In the song, things fall apart:

they lived for a while in a very nice style

but it's always the same in the end

they got a divorce as a matter of course

and they parted the closest of friends.

Rachel and I have come close to falling apart, closer than I probably realize. The thing is, it doesn't always have to be the same in the end. People do grow apart; Rachel is quite a different person now than when I married her. Many of our difficulties lay in the idea that I think I am not a better person than I am. She knows and appreciates my qualities, much more than I do. People cannot stay the same, as there would be no growth. I have not grown as much as I would have liked, and view this as meaning that I am some kind of fuck up. I am intensely proud of my wife and her many accomplishments, and could never think of a better person to be with.

This song is all about appearances, and so is my mind. It functions, sometimes very well, but I make poor decisions that I do not understand. One thing that I make a conscious effort to never do is take Rachel for granted. This is one of the mistakes made by the young couple.

They just didn't' count on the tears

At first, I know that I did not, either. Anyone in a relationship knows that there are ups and downs. For younger people these are fast: this song could never be written today, as either one of the people would have solicited relationship advice for any one of 100000 internet advice cites that link to the HuffPo. Swayed to one side or the other, they will make a choice and very few people part as friends anymore. People change, and there will be tears. People do not grow in a positive direction at all times. Older couples know this; the point is to believe that the negative is a period and not a permanent. Positives are the same. Brenda and Eddie were the king and the queen of the prom, but that never lasts.

So the king and the queen went back to the green

But you can never go back there again

You can, but you are no longer the king and queen. Be thankful for that, as being the star athlete, prom king, famous in whatever way ends.