Like the making of many books (according to Ecclesiastes), there seems to be no end to the making of good songs. I discovered this song by John Prine that portrays the man in pursuit of dreams always just out of reach. If you need the chords you can go to tabcrawler or I’ll send them to you if you write me. rickeyp@bayou.com. There is a John Prine site here, and a fan site (he has a very devoted following) here.

“Crazy as a Loon” by John Prine

Back before I was a movie star
Straight off of the farm
I had a picture of another man’s wife
Tattooed on my arm
With a pack of Camel cigarettes
In the sleeve of my tee shirt
I’m headin’ out to Hollywood
Just to have my feelings hurt

That town will make you crazy
Just give it a little time
You’ll be walking ’round in circles
Down at Hollywood and Vine
You’ll be waitin’ on a phone call
At the wrong end of a broom
Yes, that town’ll make you crazy
Crazy as a loon

So, I headed down to Nashville
To become a country star
Every night you’d find me hangin’
At every honky-tonk and bar
Pretty soon I met a woman
Pretty soon she done me wrong
Pretty soon my life got sadder
Than any country song

That town will make you crazy
Just give it a little time
You’ll be walking ’round in circles
Lookin’ for that country rhyme
You’ll be waitin’ on a phone call
At the wrong end of a broom
Yea, that town’ll make you crazy
Crazy as a loon

So, I gathered up my savvy
Bought myself a business suit
I headed up to New York City
Where a man can make some loot
I got hired Monday morning
Downsized that afternoon
Overcome with grief that evening
Now I’m crazy as a loon

So I’m up here in the north woods
Just staring at a lake
Wondering just exactly how much
They think a man can take
I eat fish to pass the time away
‘Neath this blue Canadian moon
This old world has made me crazy
Crazy as a loon
Lord, this world will make you crazy
Crazy as a loon

I am enjoying my discovery of new Americana talent and the list of songwriters and performers that I admire is growing. Imagine my delight to encounter the voice and music of the Grammy nominated Adrienne Young performing a song with Nashville (and personal) icon, Will Kimbrough. This song is so genuine, so memory-filled, so upbeat, that I felt I had to post the lyrics today. I transcribed the song from my iTunes download, so if I missed any of the lyrics, please let me know. rickeyp@bayou.com

Adrienne Young’s site is here. Just as a teaser to pique your interest, her site says this about her: “You could not conceive of a less likely strategy for winning pop media attention — still, that’s exactly what Young achieved, from a Grammy nomination (most unusual for a debut indie release) to national radio exposure (via NPR) to numerous “best of” lists, including a “Best Country Single of the Year” citation from the Nashville Scene, third place in the Amazon.com list of “best folk recordings of the year,” and benediction from the Los Angeles Times as “the Americana find of the year.”

You can learn more about Will Kimbrough here at his website.

“Plow to the End of the Row”
by Adrienne Young and Will Kimbrough

Wake up in the morning in the moonlight grey
We got dirt to break, we got a note to pay
Gonna plow, plow to the end of the row
I’m gonna wake up in the morning and plow to the end of the row

Down to the kitchen with my feet still bare,
Children to the table, Papa say a prayer
Gonna plow, plow to the end of the row
Down to the kitchen, got to plow to the end of the row

Cornbread for breakfast, won’t ya boil the grinds
Got to cut the furrow ‘fore the sun gets high
I’m gonna plow, plow to the end of the row
Cornbread for breakfast and I plow to the end of the row

Sun just broke out over the trees
I got a aching in my back and a tremblin’ in my knes
If the mule won’t pull then the plow won’t go
If the seed don’t set, then the crop won’t grow

Chickens to the market, seven miles to town
Gotta make it home ‘fore the sun goes down
Big storm coming, I can see it in the sky
Hope it don’t rain ‘fore the clothes get dry

I got rocks in my shoes, dirt in my eyes
Working like a dog till the day I die
You got to plow, plow to the end of the row
I got rocks in my shoes when I plow to the end of the row
My baby’s waitin’ for me at the end of the day
She likes to ball the jack in the sweetest way
I’m gonna plow, plow to the end of the row
My baby’s waiting’ for me so I plow to the end of the row

Wake up in the mornin’ in the moonlight grey
We got dirt to break we got a note to pay
I’m gonna plow, plow to the end of the row
I’m gonna wake up in the mornin’ and plow to the end of the row

WRESTLING WITH THE SENSE OF MORTALITY

Losing my brother nearly two years ago and taking care of an aging and fading father has changed me. I am keenly aware of my own mortality, of this fragile existence and I see more clearly why “death and love” (in all their forms) are said to be the two great themes of art and literature. I think this song by Kevin Welch and Kieran Kane express my own thoughts. Though I remember hearing this song performed by someone else, when I saw Kieran Kane was performing, I bought the song listed under his name on iTunes. This site says the song version I heard was written by Kevin Welch, 
John Hadley, and 
Scott Dooley with Kevin Welch, vocal, guitar; 
Kieran Kane: octave mandolin; 
Fats Kaplin, button accordion. I quickly learned this song and intend to make it a part of my own Americana music show. I’ve almost got the words memorized already.

“Till I’m Too Old to Die Young”

If life is like a candle bright
Then death must be the wind
You know you can close your window tight
And it still comes blowing in
So I will climb the highest hill
And I’ll watch the rising sun
And I pray that I won’t feel the chill
Till I’m too old to die young

Chorus:
Let me watch my children grow
To see what they become
Lord don’t let that cold wind blow
Till I’m too old to die young

I have had some real good friends
I thought would never die
But now all that I got left of them
Are these teardrops in my eyes

So if I could have one wish today
And I know it would be done
I’d say everyone could stay
Till they’re too old too die young
Repeat chorus twice

UNIVERSITY NEWS:

Last night from 5:00-6:30, along with some of my Academic Seminar students, I attended the first night in an art series, The Art of the New. This is an eight part series that will be shown every Tuesday night from 5:15- 6:15 in Coenan Room 158 (on the Delta campus north of ULM and Starbucks), beginning February 3rd. The popular art history sequel to the BBC’s Civilization series, picks up at the threshold of the 20th century. It is written and presented by Robert Hughes, art critic and senior writer for Time.

Hughes draws on a wealth of documentary materials from the archives of the BBC, including rare footage and interviews with noted artists. The range of major figures includes Henri Matisse, Pablo Picasso, le Corbusier, Max Ernst, Francis Bacon and Jackson Pollock. The program is facilitated by Delta’s very talented art teacher, Stacy Medaries.

Every day that I listen to Americana music (and I joined the Americana site on Facebook) I hear another great song. Here are the lyrics to another song by Emmylou Harris. I think it’s a song that a crowd would like.  I’ve also heard a real bluegrass version of this song somewhere.

Heartbreak Hill by Emmylou Harris

Long long time ago when we were young
You swore to me I would be the one
I would be the one you loved
But we had to part
You asked me to wait for you
To keep you in my heart
To keep you in my heart

Night after lonely night I’m waiting for you still
High above the lights of town here on Heartbreak Hill

Now maybe I am the foolish kind to think of you so long
Have you found another love
Am I still the one
Am I still the one for you
But you’re far away
Do you ever dream of coming back to me someday
Back to me someday

Night after lonely night I’m waiting for you still
High above the lights of town here on Heartbreak Hill

On Heartbreak Hill alone at night
I think of how you held me tight
And wonder if I ever will see you again
On Heartbreak Hill

Oh Lord if I only could go back in time enough
I’d hold you in my arms again
Never let you go
Never let you go my love
And leave me far behind
High upon this lonely hill where you swore to be mine
You swore to be mine

Night after lonely night I’m waiting for you still
High above the lights of town here on Heartbreak Hill
Night after lonely night I’m waiting for you still
High above the lights of town here on Heartbreak Hill
Here on Heartbreak Hill
Here on Heartbreak Hill

OF TEXAS’ 254 COUNTIES, 26  ARE NAMED AFTER CONFEDERATES

If you’ve ever wondered about how Texas felt (and feels) about the Confederacy, look at this list of counties named after Confederates. I’m working on a list of Texas cities. This information has been of interest to the teachers and students of the schools I’ve worked with. Please feel free to copy and distribute this. If you’re related to any of these men, please drop me an email. rickeyp@bayou.com  Also, if you have a list of cities, lakes, roads, or counties named after Confederates in any state I’d like to have it.

Ector
Mathew D. Ector, Confederate General
Foard
Major Robert L. Foard
Gray
Peter W. Gray, Houston District, Confederate House of Representatives
Tom Green
Tom Green, Brigadier General
Gregg
John B. Gregg, Brigadier General
Hemphill
John Hemphill, Representative of Texas in the Congress of the Confederate States of America until his death
Hood
John Bell Hood, Lt. Gen.
Jeff Davis
Jefferson Davis, President CSA
Johnson
Middleton T. Johnson, Colonel
Lee
Robert E. Lee, General CSA
Lubbock
Thomas Saltus Lubbock, Terry’s Texas Rangers
Ochiltree
William Beck Ochiltree, Colonel, 18th Texas Infantry
Oldham
Williamson Simpson Oldham, Pioneer Texas Lawyer and Confederate Senator
Randall
Horace Randall, Brigadier General
Reeves
George R. Reeves, Colonel
Scurry
William R. Scurry, General
Starr
Dr. James Harper Starr, Confederate agent for the postal service west of the Mississippi River
Stevens
Alexander H. Stevens, Vice President, CSA
Stonewall
Thomas J. (Stonewall) Jackson, Lieutenant General
Sutton
John S. Sutton, Colonel
Terrell
Alexander Watkins Terrell, Brigadier General, “Terrell’s Texas Cavalry Regiment”
Terry
Benjamin Franklin Terry, Terry’s Texas Rangers
Upton
John C. and William E. Upton, Confederate Generals
Val Verde
Named to commemorate a battle which involved Texas Confederate Forces (the Sibley Expedition) who fought at Val Verde, near Fort Craig, New Mexico, on February 19, 1862
Winkler
Clinton M. Winkler, Colonel
Young
Overton C. Young, Colonel, Twelfth Texas Infantry, CSA

My father is having his pacemaker replaced in late February, so my thoughts have been on him. He was the one who taught me to play guitar. I’m having so much fun traveling through the South (and that’s about to expand to the North and West as well) storytelling and playing my guitar that I’ve given thought this morning on the songs that he taught me. I grew up listening to Country Music. If my daddy wasn’t playing it, he was listening to it.  He determined that I should learn music and taught me a little steel guitar, some mandolin, some bass guitar, and guitar. It was the guitar that stuck and became part of my identity.

The first song I learned was “Little Brown Jug.” You can see a YouTube cartoon sing-a-long of the tune here. It is a fun song that he made me learn IN EVERY KEY. Then we moved on to these songs, maybe not in this exact order, but I do know these were the songs of my childhood, the songs my daddy taught me that I’ll never forget.

2) Wildwood Flower

3) Under the Double Eagle

4) San Antonio Rose

5) Steel Guitar Rag

6) The Hank Williams Oeuvre

7) These were followed by  by artists such as Porter Wagoner, Milburn Brothers, Jimmie Rodgers ( There’s a museum for him in Meridean that I must see some day),  and a host of others. Upon reflection of this, I realize that the music he taught me is a rich legacy. He couldn’t have left me anything better than the notebook of music I’ve memorized and that I carry with me everywhere–the songs my daddy taught me.