Not Just One Thing
Walking the dogs this morning was kind of a perfect experience: a sunny, not too cold Saturday after sleeping in, and I turned on my Walkman exactly as Scott Simon's interview with Rosanne Cash on NPR's Weekend Edition was beginning. She's just come out with a new CD, Black Cadillac, which was inspired by the deaths of her father and stepmother, Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash, as well as her mother.
Rosanne Cash is not only one of my favorite singers, she's also one of the most intelligent and articulate celebrities out there. (She writes a very interesting column, Mrs. L's Monthly, on her Web site.) The NPR interview is quite moving, as it touches on mortality, loss, and the gifts passed down from parents to children. "Loss is not just one thing," she says. "It's also anger, and it's also liberation and the renegotiation of these relationships."
Rosanne Cash's ten-year-old album, 10 Song Demo, is one of those that I associate so deeply with my former relationship that, as much as I love it, I can almost never bring myself to listen to it anymore. Others on that list are Mary Chapin Carpenter's Time Sex Love, Emmylou Harris's Red Dirt Girl, and Eva Cassidy's Time After Time. I introduced my ex to all of these singers, and he particularly fell in love with these CDs.
These musicians were gifts I brought to the relationship, and I have to acknowledge that I always had tangible, visible evidence that they became as much a part of him as they were of me. We'd listen to these CDs over and over on long, long road trips to Atlanta and South Carolina, on vacations in Vermont and Arizona and southern Utah -- he'd replay them so much (he was usually driving and in control of the CD player) that I almost got sick of them. Almost.
They're just evocative of too many things now. Strange how those feelings last even after you've moved on. Maybe you can never quite move on from music.
I saw a really lovely movie last night: Loggerheads. It's playing at DC's E Street Cinema and probably won't be there for long. (The DVD is being released March 21, so that's another option.) It's about parents and children -- adoptive and biological -- as well as being gay, coming together, letting go, and and moving on. The movie is ingeniously constructed and beautifully written and features a surprisingly real dramatic performance by Bonnie Hunt, better known for sitcoms, David Letterman appearances, and the recent Cheaper by the Dozen movies. (I just discovered she was born exactly one day after me! I love that.)
Now off to my parents to sort their pills for the coming week, have a cup of tea, and maybe play a game of Scrabble.
Rosanne Cash is not only one of my favorite singers, she's also one of the most intelligent and articulate celebrities out there. (She writes a very interesting column, Mrs. L's Monthly, on her Web site.) The NPR interview is quite moving, as it touches on mortality, loss, and the gifts passed down from parents to children. "Loss is not just one thing," she says. "It's also anger, and it's also liberation and the renegotiation of these relationships."
Rosanne Cash's ten-year-old album, 10 Song Demo, is one of those that I associate so deeply with my former relationship that, as much as I love it, I can almost never bring myself to listen to it anymore. Others on that list are Mary Chapin Carpenter's Time Sex Love, Emmylou Harris's Red Dirt Girl, and Eva Cassidy's Time After Time. I introduced my ex to all of these singers, and he particularly fell in love with these CDs.
These musicians were gifts I brought to the relationship, and I have to acknowledge that I always had tangible, visible evidence that they became as much a part of him as they were of me. We'd listen to these CDs over and over on long, long road trips to Atlanta and South Carolina, on vacations in Vermont and Arizona and southern Utah -- he'd replay them so much (he was usually driving and in control of the CD player) that I almost got sick of them. Almost.
They're just evocative of too many things now. Strange how those feelings last even after you've moved on. Maybe you can never quite move on from music.
I saw a really lovely movie last night: Loggerheads. It's playing at DC's E Street Cinema and probably won't be there for long. (The DVD is being released March 21, so that's another option.) It's about parents and children -- adoptive and biological -- as well as being gay, coming together, letting go, and and moving on. The movie is ingeniously constructed and beautifully written and features a surprisingly real dramatic performance by Bonnie Hunt, better known for sitcoms, David Letterman appearances, and the recent Cheaper by the Dozen movies. (I just discovered she was born exactly one day after me! I love that.)
Now off to my parents to sort their pills for the coming week, have a cup of tea, and maybe play a game of Scrabble.
posted by Billy at 2:20 PM
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