Posts by "Dave"

Fast Car

You got a fast car
And I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere

Any place is better
Starting from zero, got nothing to lose
Maybe we’ll make something
Me, myself, I got nothing to prove

You got a fast car
And I got a plan to get us out of here
Been working at the convenience store
Managed to save just a little bit of money

Won’t have to drive too far
Just across the border and into the city
And you and I can both get jobs
Finally see what it means to be living

See, my old man’s got a problem
He lived with the bottle, that’s the way it is
Said his body’s too old for working
His body’s too young to look like his

So, Mama went off and left him
She wanted more from life than he could give
I said, “Somebody’s got to take care of him”
So, I quit school and that’s what I did

You got a fast car
Is it fast enough so we could fly away?
Still gotta make a decision
Leave tonight, or live and die this way

So, I remember when we were driving, driving in your car
Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk
City lights laid out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped around my shoulder
And I, I had a feeling that I belonged
I, I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car
We go cruising, entertain ourselves
You still ain’t got a job
So I work in the market as a checkout girl

I know things will get better
You’ll find work and I’ll get promoted
And we’ll move out of the shelter
Buy a bigger house, live in the suburbs

So, I remember when we were driving, driving in your car
Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped around my shoulder
And I, I had a feeling that I belonged
I, I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car
I got a job that pays all our bills
You stay out drinking late at the bar
See more of your friends than you do of your kids

I’d always hoped for better
Thought maybe together you and me’d find it
I got no plans, I ain’t going nowhere
Take your fast car and keep on driving

So, I remember when we were driving, driving in your car
Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped around my shoulder
And I, I had a feeling that I belonged
I, I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car
Is it fast enough, so we could fly away?
You still gotta make a decision
Leave tonight, or live and die this way

Sadie

Sadie, white coat
You carry me home
And bury this bone
And take this pine-cone

Bury this bone to gnaw on it later;
Gnawing on the telephone
And ’till then, we pray and suspend
The notion that these lives do never end

And all day long we talk about mercy:
Lead me to water, Lord, I sure am thirsty
Down in the ditch where I nearly served you
Up in the clouds where he almost heard you

And all that we built
And all that we breathed
And all that we spilt, or pulled up like weeds
Is piled up in back
And it burns irrevocably
(And we spoke up in turns
‘Till the silence crept over me)

And bless you
And I deeply do
No longer resolute oh
And I call to you

But the water
Got so cold
And you do lose
What you don’t hold

This is an old song, these are old blues
And this is not my tune, but it’s mine to use
And the seabirds where the fear once grew
Will flock with a fury
And they will bury what’d come for you

And down where I darn with the milk-eyed mender
You and I, and a love so tender
Stretched on a hoop where I stitch – this adage:
“Bless our house and its heart so savage”

And all that I want
And all that I need
And all that I’ve got is scattered like seed
And all that I knew is moving away from me
(And all that I know is blowing
Like tumbleweed)

And the mealy worms
In the brine will burn
In a salty pyre
Among the fauns and ferns

And the love we hold
And the love we spurn
Will never grow cold
Only taciturn

And I’ll tell you tomorrow
Sadie, go on home now
And bless those who’ve sickened below
And bless us who’ve chosen so

And all that I’ve got
And all that I need
I tie in a knot and I lay at your feet
And I have not forgot, but a silence crept over me
(So dig up your bone
Exhume your pine-cone, my Sadie)

Like Captured Fireflies

by John Steinbeck

My eleven-year-old son came to me recently and in a tone of patient suffering, asked, “How much longer do I have to go to school?”

“About fifteen years,” I said.

“Oh! Lord,” he said despondently.

“Do I have to?”

“I’m afraid so. It’s terrible and I’m not going to try to tell you it isn’t. But I can tell you this—if you are very lucky, you may find a teacher and that is a wonderful thing.”

“Did you find one?”

It is customary for adults to forget how hard and dull and long school is. The learning by memory all the basic things one must know is the most incredible and unending effort. Learning to read is probably the most difficult and revolutionary thing that happens to the human brain and if you don’ t believe that, watch an illiterate adult try to do it. School is not easy, and it is not for the most part very fun, but then if you are very lucky, you may find a teacher. Three real teachers in a lifetime is the very best of luck. My first was a science and math teacher in high school, my second a professor of creative writing at Stanford and my third was my friend and partner Ed Ricketts.

I have come to believe that a great teacher is a great artist and that there are as few as there are any other great artists. It might even be the greatest of the arts since the medium is the human mind and spirit.

My three had these things in common: They all loved what they were doing. They did not tell—they catalyzed a burning desire to know. Under their influence, the horizons sprung wide and fear went away, and the unknown became knowable. But most important of all, the truth, that dangerous stuff, became beautiful and very precious.

I shall speak only of my first teacher because in addition to the other things, she brought discovery. She aroused us to shouting, book waving discussions. She had the noisiest class in school, and she didn’t even seem to know it. We could never stick to the subject, geometry or the chanted recitation of the memorized phyla. Our speculation ranged the world. She breathed curiosity into us so that we brought in facts or truths shielded in our hands like captured fireflies.

She was fired and perhaps rightly so, for failing to teach the fundamentals. Such things must be learned. But she left a passion in us for the pure knowable world and me she inflamed with a curiosity which has never left me. I could not do simple arithmetic but through her I sensed that abstract mathematics was very like music. When she was removed, a sadness came over us, but the light did not go out. She left her signature on us, the literature of the teacher who writes on minds. I have had many teachers who told me soon-forgotten facts but only three who created in me a new thing, a new attitude and a new hunger. I suppose that to a large extent I am the unsigned manuscript of that high school teacher. What deathless power lies in the hands of such a person.

I can tell my son who looks forward with horror to fifteen years of drudgery that somewhere in the dusty dark a magic may happen that will light up the years…if he is very lucky.

My love is as a fever, by Shakespeare

My love is as a fever longing still,

For that which longer nurseth the disease;

Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,

The uncertain sickly appetite to please.

My reason, the physician to my love,

Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,

Hath left me, and I desperate now approve

Desire is death, which physic did except.

Past cure I am, now Reason is past care,

And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;

My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,

At random from the truth vainly expressed;   

For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,   

Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

Elevator Love Letter

I’m so hard for a rich girl
My heels are high, my eyes cast low
And I don’t know how to love
I get too tired after midday, lately

I take it out on my good friends
But the worst stays in
Oh, where would I begin?

My office glows all night long
It’s a nuclear show and the stars are gone
Elevator, elevator, take me home

I’m so hard for the rich girl
Her heels so high and my hopes so low
‘Cause I don’t know how to love

I’ll take her home after midnight
And if she likes, I’ll tell her lies
Of how we’ll be in love by the morning
I don’t think she’ll know that I’m saying goodbye

My office glows all night long
It’s a nuclear show and the stars are gone
Elevator, elevator, take me home

My office glows all night long
It’s a nuclear show and the stars are gone
Elevator, elevator, take me home

Don’t go, say you’ll stay
Spend the lazy Sunday
In my arms, I won’t take
Anything away
Don’t go, say you’ll stay
Spend a lazy Sunday
In my arms, don’t take
Anything away
Away

Reconstruction Site

Well, I’m lost
I’m a frayed
Rope tying down a leaky boat
To the roof of a car
On a road in the dark
And it’s snowing

If I’m more
Then it means less
Last call for happiness
I’m your dress near the back of your knees
And your slip is showing

I’m a float
In a summer parade
Up the street in the town that
You were born in
With a girl
At the top wearing tulle
And a Miss Somewhere sash
Waving like the queen

Well beauty’s just another word
I’m never certain how to spell
Go tell the nurse to turn the TV back on
And throw away my misery
It never meant that much to me
It never sent a get-well card

And I broke
Like a bad joke
Somebody’s uncle told
At a wedding reception in 1972
Where a little boy under a table with cake in his hair
Stared at the grown-up feet as they danced and swayed

And his father laughed
And talked on the long ride home
And his mother laughed
And talked on the long ride home
And he thought about how everyone dies someday
And when tomorrow gets here, where will yesterday be?
And fell asleep in his brand new winter coat

Just Like Heaven

The Cure

The Cure

“Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick
The one that makes me scream”, she said”

The one that makes me laugh”, she said
And threw her arms around my neck
Show me how you do it
And I promise you, I promise that
I’ll run away with you
I’ll run away with you
Spinning on that dizzy edge
Kissed her face and kissed her head
Dreamed of all the different ways
I had to make her glow
“Why are you so far away?”, she said
“Why won’t you ever know that I’m in love with you
That I’m in love with you?”
You
Soft and only
You
Lost and lonely
You
Strange as angels
Dancing in the deepest oceans
Twisting in the water
You’re just like a dream
You’re just like a dream
Daylight licked me into shape
I must’ve been asleep for days
And moving lips to breathe her name
I opened up my eyes
And found myself alone, alone
Alone above a raging sea
That stole the only girl I loved
And drowned her deep inside of me
You
Soft and lonely
You
Lost and lonely
You
Just like heaven

Madame Joy

Van Morrison

All the men would turn their head
When she walked down the street
Clothes are fine and hair that shine
Smiling oh so sweet,
Smiling oh so sweet

Got a taste of all religion
Comes on with the new
In her hair a yellow ribbon
And she’s decked out all in blue
Oh yes in, decked out all in blue

Steppin’ lightly, steppin’ brightly
With her books in hand
Going to the university to teach them
Help them understand
And are helping ’em understand

And all the kids would love to see her
Follow in her steps
And tell her stories and adore her
Climb in through the fence
Climb in through the fence

Here she comes walking
Here she comes talking
I do believe it’s Madame Joy
Walking past that old street corner
And she’s looking for her boy
Oh yes she is, looking for her boy

Steppin’ lightly, steppin’ brightly
With her books in hand
Going to the university to teach them
Help them understand
Yeah, help them understand

I was looking at the way she moved me
And I was seeing every side
Tell me, can I learn the language
Have you got the mind?
Have you got the mind?

Here she comes walking
Here she comes talking
I do believe it’s Madame Joy
She’s walking by that old street corner
And she’s looking for her boy
Oh yes looking for her boy

And all the men would turn their head
When she walked down the street
Clothes refined and hair that shine
And smiling oh so sweet,
Oh yes, she’s smiling oh so sweet

And all the men would turn their head around
When that woman walked down the street

I used to lead tours at a plantation. You won’t believe the questions I got about slavery, by Margaret Biser

Up until about a year ago, I worked at a historic site in the South that included an old house and a nearby plantation. My job was to lead tours and tell guests about the people who made plantations possible: the slaves.

The site I worked at most frequently had more than 100 enslaved workers associated with it— 27 people serving the household alone, outnumbering the home’s three white residents by a factor of nine. Yet many guests who visited the house and took the tour reacted with hostility to hearing a presentation that focused more on the slaves than on the owners.