Thursday, July 30, 2009
Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night
and wouldn't you love to love her?
she rules her life like a bird in flight
and who will be her lover?
All your life you've never seen a woman
taken by the sky
where would you stay if she promised to you heaven
would you even try?
And he says Rhiannon don't go
and he says Rhiannon, stay
and he says I still cry out for you
don't leave me don't leave me
she is like a cat in the dark
and baby she is your darkness
she rules her life like a fine skylark
and when the sky is starless
once in a million years
a lady like her rises oh no RHiannon
you cry and she's gone
and your life knows no answer
your life knows no answer
So I often ask people, what's on your Ipod, just random wonderings. I love my little white machine and when people worry about what someone would find in their house if they were hit by a bus, I think I'd be judged best by what is on my Ipod. I made a little deal with myself, when I sell an extender chain in the shop I am putting $10 of music on my machine. You can load books on these things, audio books and it's like someone reading to you at night. Oh Gods I love when someone reads to me at night. Only a few more days and Suzy will be here and she'll read to me.
So the texts start this morning:
me: You ever listen to Chris Cornell?
bf: Who the hell is that?
me: Great voice youd like him
bf: where did you hear him? Vh1?
me: Stuart recommended him
bf: for the music or lyrics
bf: Are you singing along?
bf: there ya go
me: I am grumpy tell me the first three songs you'd put on an ipod
bf: wha? (Ok I am thinking she's trying to do the deaf thing in text messages)
bf: One more time? three what?
me: Three songs you would put on an ipod
bf: Well let's see how about the drops of jupiter from train, Crash by Dave Matthews, tribute to Tommy John and his thousands of hours of fun and Levon by EJ because when I couldn't find you today I was singing that to myself
bf: what first three did you load?
me: elton, all ej
bf: what's the last three
me: eagles; most are sad, the carpenters; rainy days and mondays, Rhiannon
bf: isn't that the chick who got beat up?
me: you need some sugar
and that's how it started. I could have lost the afternoon in music and almost did. I asked my brother what he listened to: Frank sinatra, Grateful dead and the stones. Of course the stones. Then Michael: Rider on the wind; the doors, American Highway, ventura, Woodstock; Joni Mitchell. Can't ask Batman, he's rescuing a damsel. The bossy republican of course picks Bob Dylan (what a fake ass democrat answer), the boxer by Paul Simon and anything by the Stones. Men love the stones. Jagger is a guy's guy. Richie would pick Usher (I like usher also), John Paul (gagging) and thriller by MJ. I love listening him to jam to MJ and hear him dancing up on the third floor.
If you found my ipod you'd find Elton of course, some James Blunt (gosh he makes me sadly soul full, Joni Mitchell, Melissa Etheridge, Stevie Nicks, Pachabell; the Cannon in D Minor, and Adelle chasing sidewalks. On quiet nights you'd find a little Willie Nelson and when I am full of power a little You Ought to Know. I listen to the same songs over and over again until they are good friends. I am intrigued with the theme from August Rush, the screaming violins, the triangle and a little moon dance hidden in there.
If you haven't tried the Ipod craze yet, I recommend it. Music soothes the pacing caged tiger in all of us.
You can find my me any time at firstname.lastname@example.org and my work at www.poetsummer.etsy.com. Carrie.