Time Passes Again

 It's rare that I have the time and head space to reflect. This is one of those weeks, separated from family while in training  for my next assignment to Mozambique. Should I have so much time while in training? I did ask why our courses go only six hours instead of eight, and the reply was so that we could schedule consultations. I did my consultations a few months ago. Here I sit, trying to keep myself occupied and relatively active. Researching pulp artists, seeing again the huge array of beautiful paintings done by N.C. Wyeth, and making that connection again between youth and creativity. For me it was time well spent. Now if I could only be a little more creative myself.

I'm still hung up the amazing, almost divine ability for the young to create. I was listening to the song Poncho and Lefty, made famous by Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard when they were in their fifties, or perhaps late forties. However, the song was written by Townes Van Zandt, and he reocrded it in 1972, around the age of 28. Lyrics to the opening verse. "Breath as hard as kerosene." Where did those words come into his mind? It's amazing. 

Living on the road my friend
Is gonna keep you free and clean
Now you wear your skin like iron
Your breath as hard as kerosene
You weren't your mama's only boy
But her favorite one, it seems
She began to cry when you said goodbye

Townes Van Zandt

I'm stuck on western music, as in "country" music, because the lyrics to so many of these songs felt lived in for many rough years, but these guys were young. Here is Mr Bojangles by Jerry Jeff Walker. He recorded the song in 1968, but must have written it some time earlier, as it was about an encounter he'd had in a New Orleans jail in 1965, when he would have been 23. These are lyrics from the second half of the song. 

We spoke in tears of fifteen years
How his dog and him
They travelled about
His dog up and died

He up and died
After twenty years he still grieves
They said i dance now at every chance and honky tonks
For drinks and tips

But most the time i spend behind these county bars
Cause i drinks a bit
He shook his head and as he shook his head
I heard someone ask please

Mr Bojangles
Mr Bojangles
Mr Bojangles
Dance

I knew a man Bojangles and he danced for you
In worn out shoes
Silver hair, a ragged shirt and baggy pants
The old soft shoe

He jumped so high
He jumped so high
Then he'd lightly touched down
Mr Bojangles
Mr Bojangles

Jerry Jeff Walker