Can't Help But Wonder
Today was not an indoor kind of day. For any of you who know Northeast Ohio, you know that the warm, sunny days we have in spring are what you might call, "numbered." Nonetheless, when I wasn't outside chasing after my kids or strolling along the creek -- where we interrupted Deer Napping Hour as almost a dozen of them, miffed, sprang up and trotted away -- I was loading the contents of my musical life onto my PC.
It's been an interesting journey, to pull together bits and pieces of my favorites and load them into one place. I have no fewere than 14 REM recordings, plus one documentary thanks to "x"'s sis, and one bluegrass tribute album, Pickin' On REM, thanks to Shannon. I've loaded everything from three Dave Matthews albums to the Dry Branch Fire Squad.
And that's not even touching the classical.
On and off over the last few days, I've considered whether, or at what point, I should "get back in the game" -- yes, you know, the dating thing. I'm not sure how to re-enter that particular atmosphere, and I'm not even sure I want to. I'm not unused to being vulnerable or afraid things will go wrong. Just starting from scratch seems like a lot of work when I'm so happy the way things are. How do you know when it's time?
Right now while it loads I'm enjoying a recording by a singer I love, Nanci Griffith. It's called Other Voices/Other Rooms and features her unique smooth voice on songs written or performed by folk steward like Bob Dylan, Townes Van Zandt, and others less well known. One well-loved character on the lineup is Tom Paxton, who still makes the rounds. This terrific tune sums up perfectly my worldview at the moment.
Can't Help But Wonder Where I'm Bound
Words and Music by Tom Paxton
It's a long and dusty road,
It's a hot and a heavy load and the folks I meet ain't always kind.
Some are bad and some are good.
Some have done the best they could.
Some have tried to ease my troubl in mind.
And I can't help but wonder
where I'm bound, where I'm bound.
Can't help but wonder where I'm bound.
I have wandered through this land just a-doin' the best I can,
Tryin' to find what I was meant to do.
And the people that I see look as worried as can be
And it looks like they are wonderin' too.
Oh, I had a little girl one time, she had lips like sherry wine
And she loved me till my head went plumb insane.
But I was too blind to see she was driftin' away from me
And my good gal went off on the morning train.
And I had a buddy back home but he started out to roam
And I hear he's out by 'Frisco Bay.
And sometimes when I've had a few, his old voice comes singin' through
And I'm goin' out to see him some old day.
If you see me passing by
And you sit and you wonder why,
And you wish that you were a rambler too;
Nail your shoes to the kitchen floor, lace 'em up and bar the door,
Thank your stars for the roof that's over you.