Make This Place Your Home

Yeah, you already know it.
Because you're cooler than I.
You actually watch American Idol.

No, not really.


But, if you do watch, you already know this guy. I just met his music. It was during a cool-down after a gym beat-down so, since I was practically unconscious anyway, I figured I'd pay attention to the Ipod spin a bit more than usual. And what did my little ears hear?

Hold on, to me as we go 

As we roll down this unfamiliar road 

And although this wave is stringing us along 

Just know you’re not alone 

Cause I’m going to make this place your home 

Settle down, it'll all be clear 

Don't pay no mind to the demons 

They fill you with fear 

The trouble it might drag you down 

If you get lost, you can always be found 

Just know you’re not alone 

Cause I’m going to make this place your home 

Settle down, it'll all be clear 

Don't pay no mind to the demons 

They fill you with fear 

The trouble it might drag you down 

If you get lost, you can always be found 

Just know you’re not alone 

Cause I’m going to make this place your home

This summer's theme has been friendship. I didn't plan on it. I'm not even sure I could have planned on it: it has been too good to be anything other than Him all the way. 

Boy, did I need it. I needed to recover, to heal, to remember that friendship - in its best and purest form - is...well, this song. 

On the tablet of my mind, I've written a hundred times over what I've learned about friendship in the last few months. Each time, my feeble attempts go the way of the giant pink eraser, accompanied by a subconscious "tsk, tsk" - and I know I'm not even close.

Then, laying on the floor with eyes closed and body on fire, I heard them. The words I wish I'd penned, appearing at exactly the moment I was supposed to hear them.

Did you know that most writers use home not as a literal noun to indicate a structure of residence but, rather, as a metaphor for safe haven, for belonging to place...for being part of a family? Too often, home shifts in life. We move where our address dictates, and that's a reality we can't always avoid. Change your zip code enough, though, and you learn a fact you won't soon forget: Home truly is where the heart is. 

In a world of transience with little hope and lots of fear, there are still great friends left. They're the ones who promise, "You're not alone. Don't back down. I'm not going anywhere. Go ahead and blow it. Get lost in your fogs and fears: I'll hold the light. I'll be at the end of the long and narrow road. And when you're done with the demons, the troubles, the tough spots that wear you thin...come on home." 

They're the heart of wherever you are. Near or far. Now and later. 

They'll stand the test of time. 

If you've got 'em, stop looking around.

You've got the best.

You've got a place to call home.

The Sky Looks Pissed

Thanks to Hulu Plus, I stumbled upon the this glorious little musical treasure whose stage recently hosted Ingrid Michaelson.

Love her writing. And singing.


The best part of shows like this one is that you can, in their rawest form short of sitting next to them on a subway train, encounter new artists. Deciding if you like 'em is really so much easier when they're without producers, mixers, and dubbing knobs.

So is the case with Miss Ingrid. She marries lyrics to rhythm to create moments - ones I've lived in, some I have not. Nevertheless, they are ad rem to the human heart, the nature of relating. While humming along to the tunes I'm already stuck on, the first notes of this song knelled: it's one I had not heard heretofore.

Now I'm listening to it over and over.
At first blush, I thought it was a moment I hadn't lived.
Then again, I think we've all lived it. It's about loss by absence. It's about admitting that loss. It's about wanting to fill it with what once lived there, before the loss became too risky to endure. It's about reopening the heart by removing its chain.

Besides, there's not one of us who haven't seen a sky look pissed or heard the wind talk back.
I could dig it for those two lines alone.

Here's your shot to do the same.

 "The Chain"

The sky looks pissed.

The wind talks back.

My bones are shifting in my skin

And you my love are gone.

My room seems wrong.

The bed won't fit.

I can not seem to operate

And you my love are gone

(Chorus)

So glide away on soapy heels

And promise not to promise anymore

And if you come around again

Then I will take, then I will take the chain from off the door

I'll never say,

I'll never love.

But I dont say a lot of things

And you my love are gone.

(Chorus X6)

New(s) To Me

It doesn't happen often. Big stretches sometimes between happenings, actually.

Then? Bang.

I'll encounter what's "new to me." You may already know. Course, if it's new to me and old to you, it means you didn't let me in on the fun...so poo on you.

Then again, if I assumed you knew and didn't dish, then it'd be poo on me. Big stamp of "No thanks" on that one. So, let me introduce Rosie Thomas. Or reintroduce you. Or give you an opportunity to quip, "Yeah. Remove the rock. You're missing out."

So, Google her. Bing it. Shout Yahoo! Boat along the Amazon. Just get her stuff. If you're all about the voice, hers is the stuff of soul meets lucence comin' round the musical bend.

I'm bettin' you'll find her all the more compelling when after you listen to her tunes, you discover she talks like this. 

Yeah, that was new(s) to me.
Uh, too.

Life With Each Other

In a close second to lover, "companion" was one of Craig's three most important aspects of marriage. An easy prospect to consider; harder if your personality differences bring new meaning to the catch phrase "Venus and Mars". But, for nearly 17 years of courtship and marriage, we've figured out ways to make it work.

The secret? Want to be with the one you love. Then be with them. In whatever way you can, every time you can. And reap the whirlwind of reward.

TV and music have been two of our "every way, every time" hallmarks. He'll watch Jane Austen and History Channel if I watch comedy and sports. Know what I discovered along the way? Craig often knows better than I what I'll actually enjoy watching...and he picks the shows with the best music. Case in point: Friday Night Lights.

I could write an entire post just about the nature of this show: its critical acclaim but hard-to-niche following; its wandering trek from network to network in search of just one more season; or how its faithful viewers trekked right along with it...until the recent series finale. Craig was one such trekker; certainly, more than one DVR, Hulu queue, and Amazon loader has seen the Friday Night Lights logo and geared up for multiple Plays - first, his. Then, mine. When we sat down to watch the finale entitled "Always", we found ourselves curled up, silent, waiting (as most finales have you) for the final frame to begin.

And then came the music.

When those final frames began, it was against the backdrop of this song by Delta Spirit. I say these to you: iTunes. Amazon. eMusic. Find it. Buy it. Listen to it. Repeatedly. As always, here are the lyrics for your persual:

Devil Knows You're Dead

And the sun shine warm upon your face
May the rains fall soft upon your field
Until the day we meet again

And the roof that hangs over your head
Find you shelter from the storm

Before the devil knows you're dead
May you be in heaven, my friend

May good luck find you at your worst
And bad love lose you at your best
May your days be rich and full of wealth
And your nights be long when you need rest

And the roof that hangs over your head
Find you shelter from the storm

Before the devil knows you're dead
May you be in heaven, my friend

And the road, may it rise to meet your feet
And be downhill all the way to your door
May the grass below be green and the sky above be blue
May it be so forever more

And the roof that hangs over your head
Find you shelter from the storm

Before the devil knows you're dead
May you be in heaven, my friend

I've listened to it 50 times if I've listened to it once. Every time sheds new light on someone I think about, someone I love. For that matter, it sheds light on saying goodbye. Saying "Until I see you again." Saying, "Be well. Be blessed. Be rich."

The rewards of companionship with my husband are many. And profound. And gifts. But they aren't all supernatural and abstract. Sometimes, they are the simple gift of a song found in a television show watched simply because he liked it. 

And because I like him. 

A lot. 

So I watch. 

And discover He's got something for me, too.

Like music I listen to again and again. 

Like music that Craig sits and listens to with me...again and again. 

Because he's my companion. 

Like I'm his. 

Sharing the simplest gifts. 

To discover we're living the biggest one He's got...life with each other.

Music to My Ears

A good song must have a rockin' tune. Some major build into a moving chorus is preferred. A solid beat I need so I can hum and hum and hum and hum. This is music to my ears. But a favorite song needs a little somthin' more. To be a favorite, it needs to move me with its lyrics. (Well, I am a writer, after all).
And I have a new favorite song - you know the type...the one you listen to again and again and glean something from it each time. This is my current fix that keeps me jonesing. I love couples; more specifically, I love marriage. I love the concept, the content, the conundrum within it, and the complete freedom and blessing it can be. "Poison and Wine" by The Civil Wars (appropriate band name for this song) is a soulful rendition of what marriage is like for, quite honestly, the majority of Americans today. As we've become more self-obsessed, we've entered a realm where looking out for own #1 has long surpassed any procurement of unity and self-sacrifice in the social institution.
But I still have hope.  I remain privileged to know great marriages that are lasting a lifetime in opposition to this growing trend. But this song - this tension of hating and loving so intensely you don't know which way is up, of wanting and despising, of choosing and resigning to having no choice at all - is one reason we know God's called us to minister to couples. Because the plain truth is, even if this isn't you and yours, it could be any of you and any of yours at any moment. This covenant is precious, precarious and, for so many of us, a precipitant experience...we call it not just falling, but falling and falling in love, over and over again. And hoping you don't crash at the bottom.

The Video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WfzRlcnq_c0

The Lyrics:

You only know what I want you to

I know everything you don't want me to

Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine

Oh you think your dreams are the same as mine

Oh I don't love you but I always will

Oh I don't love you but I always will

Oh I don't love you but I always will

I always will

I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back

The less I give the more I get back

Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise

I don't have a choice but I still choose you

Oh I don't love you but I always will

Oh I don't love you but I always will

Oh I don't love you but I always will

Oh I don't love you but I always will

Oh I don't love you but I always will

Oh I don't love you but I always will

Oh I don't love you but I always will

I always will

I always will

I always will

I always will

I always will

Yeah, he's that good.

I've discovered another exceptional writer. While not enirely new to the scene, he is widely unknown to popular audiences. Nevertheless, I came upon him and find him brilliantly gifted: he's a linguistic guru in the genre of historic fiction, particularly in the novella subclass. This means that, while his books are relatively brief in lenth (think circa 180 pages), they are all based on historic events. But wait - there's more!

He's also strongly centered on the vignettes of multiple characters: thus, you experience the given focal event of the novel through the multiples eyes of its players.

His name is Adam Braver.

I just finished November 22, 1963 which is, of course, about the assassination of John F. Kennedy (a subject, by the way, which holds my extensive fascination). And I just started Mr. Lincoln's Wars. He's also written Crows Over the Wheatfields (which I'm heading to as quickly as I can) and Divine Sarah, if you're searching about.

He is, in my humble but expert opinion, one of the genius's of the literary century.

Yeah, he's that good.