Listening to the White Album

I worked up a good sweat and remembered happiness with The White Album. I think I must have re-discovered David’s famous dance to “Why Don’t We Do It in the Road?” You know the one, right? Did somebody paint it and that’s why we all figure he danced that way? That must be it. We all glimpsed this painting… Part of me wants to go find it on the web, but I’m more content just writing about my time with The White Album tonight. “Cry Baby Cry” I’m sure is about the fall of man, and how babies cry because they know they’re not in Paradise and they have a long road ahead. Someone who’s “old enough to know better” is old enough to know Paradise , so the Queen in the song is a type of Eve, and also an heir to Eve’s grief. Once I was jamming out with a soon-to-be ex-friend Punk Rocker and his girlfriend and I sang,

There goes the Queen of Marigold
You know she’s very, very old
She’s come a long way (baby) down that
Winding road
And she’s old enough
To know better
Hey yay yeah

The first verse of my ballad puts it in context:

As autumn leaves come tumbling down
I remember ‘bout a king who lost his crown
I look at you, shivering in my sweater
Wondering if you’re old enough to know better
Are you old enough
To know better
Hey yay yeah

The old punk – I’ll call him ‘Garene – was a splendid musician, and we made a pretty cool recording. He probably still has it somewhere. Jurassic Punk.

‘Garene impressed me by talking to people on my college campus about me, “Where’s that girl? Tell her I’m looking for her. I’ve gotta find that girl!” He carried my lost guitar around like it was Cinderella’s lost slipper. When I passed his house one day (not knowing it was his house) he hopped out the window and followed me down the street. I figured he must be pretty cool based on all that. Later I was singing at a club and ‘Garene’s friend Y’dong came and asked me to leave the gig and come to the club where they were celebrating his birthday, probably for ‘Garene’s sake. The following summer I jammed with them, wrote music, cooked for them, spent nights on the floor, painted Y’dong’s picture, fetched food out to ‘Garene at his job and fetched clothing out to Y’dong on his.

The problem with punks like that is, once they get tired of you and decide you’re history, they don’t talk about it or work things out. They just dodge you and complain if you try to talk to them. The same punk who crashed my campus telling everyone he was attracted to me was really miffed when I showed up on his campus unannounced. Dropping in unannounced is how we had always related to one another. There was no warning, no explication when things changed. And he never did redress the hurt. And don’t even get me started about Y’dong… I’m not going there tonight. OK just one tidbit: That jerk Y’dong, the same guy who asked me to bring his clothes to the record store where he worked, complained that it was inappropriate when I tried to surprise him by bringing him lunch (to his other job, at a kids’ camp.) But really, Y’dong is bad territory; I don’t want to be here. Back to The White Album.

The Beatles showed us tearful babies entering the Veil of Tears, but they had already given us, “It’s Getting Better All The Time,” in which they tell us that “[I] can’t complain,” presumably because the Lord has been through worse. And that is why I’ve so named my blog! In college I told a pal, Johnny (real name,) that I thought “It’s Getting Better All the Time” was about Jesus and at first he seemed skeptical, but then he went through the lyrics and was convinced and very amused.

“Sexy Sadie” is ostensibly about the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, but I knew someone named Sadie who had good reason to believe she had helped inspire it. In 1993 we worked in the same office. She told me she had gone to see the Beatles in concert – probably their last tour, and that, after the show, Paul had called out to her, “Hey you! You, what’s your name?” And she called, “Sadie!” And then they came out with “Sexy Sadie.” You never know.

I didn’t get to hear “Rocky Raccoon” tonight, but I named (successively) a couple of the varmints who visited my house Sirach after the boy in that song.

“Long Long Long” will always remind me of my college boyfriend, Colin (real name, although he’s changed it since then.) It was so relaxing to be around him. He was wonderful – handsome, smart, artistic, adventurous, tall(er than even me,) affectionate and appreciative. He had a hammock in the backyard which is called to mind also by that song. Colin was an “A” boyfriend but an “A+” ex-boyfriend, because he broke up with me very nicely. If you’re grading on a curve you’ve gotta appreciate that. Too many people start the blame game when they want to dump someone, but sweet Colin only said that what we had was good but he wanted something different so he was going away hoping to meet someone else. And I saw him again once or twice. It was all cool. About three years post breakup he visited me at Garene’s house where I was then living, and Garene was impressed by what a looker Colin was. (‘Garene turned a few heads himself.)

Just reading that paragraph must make it hard to understand that I'm a virgin, but I am one.

"Honey Pie" reminds me of my Great Grandmother, who came over on the boat from Belarus and sang cabaret over here. I never met her. I must have heard her name, but I can't think of it. Her married last name was Narowanski. My cousin said she was a gypsy. My mother said that her parents sent her money from Russia with love, despite the horrendous exchange rate.

Tonight I danced with the dogs. Dogs are one of the things that make life worth celebrating so that it is possible to dance. We're sure all dogs go to heaven, so if there are dogs around, you know you're in a good place.

What else? I forgot.

Joy evaporated when I got over Nicola. Hope vanished with Anwar. Depression set in when I took Jake more seriously than I'd meant to. But it's still a beautiful world, what with Beatles and dogs. If I had more time I'd think of more to say. And if I had more time yet I'd go to YouTube and search for Beatles + Star Trek. No, I'm ending this post right here because the night is ending.