Goddamn, I love this place! Have I mentioned that before? Perhaps only 157 times.
|David Crosby - Almost Cut My Hair .mp3|
|Found at bee mp3 search engine|
and he is still very, very good at what he does.
I am not a big believer in putting too much stock in popular song lyrics. They are not Wordsworth, for chrissakes. Although Van Morrison robbed Yeats blind for many of his. But this one. . . .this one. . . .
I wish I had a nickel for every time I have listened to this one in my life, to invoke that old cliché. I assure you that I can still vividly remember listening to this song repeatedly in my forties and fifties--drunk and miserable--continually checking the rear view mirror for cops. These lines were reliably there every time. He never skipped them, thank God. They kept me going. On the electric version with Stephen Stills and Graham Nash, they always come after the heavy guitar solo in the middle.
When I finally get myself together,
I'm going to get down in that sunny [sweet], southern weather.
I'm going to find a space [formerly “place”] inside a laugh,
separate the wheat. . . .
I made it.
If I had to get old in order to make it, then I am content with that trade-off. It is a sunny 82° F. outside right now well into October here below the Tropic of Cancer. I made it, and I am not going to give in an inch to fear. I promised myself again and again in those long past years that I would not then. If I did not back then, I sure as hell am not going to now. Everything is easy now. Laughter is abundant, and there is plenty of space in it.
By the way, now I know exactly to whom I owe it. I owe it to that guy back there in the past in whose skin I lived then.