A Month of Fridays continued...

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Friday Challenge!

Summertime and the living is easy
Fish are jumping
And the cotton is high
Your Daddy's rich, and your Mama's good lookin'
So hush little baby do-wo-on't you cry

One of these mornings, you're gonna rise up singing 
You're gonna spread your wings and take the sky 
But till that morning, there is nothing can harm you 

With your daddy and mommy standing by.

Where are you right now? I mean right now - the first or most important time you heard that song? Where are you? How big are you? What's happening around you? Is it hot out? Are you outside? Are you in someone's arms?
Are you a little one having a lullabye sung to you

or are you trying to stay inconspicuous as the adults drink their drinks and chat their chat - the hifi riffing this summer song?


Are you a teenager listening to Janis Joplin belt it out with Big Brother and the Holding Company - her impossible perfectly heartbreaking voice making you wish you were lying somewhere strung out and longing even if it scares the beejezus out of you?

Are you thinking of this song historically when you hear it in your mind - a world where cotton is high and mamas are physical beings not just purveyers of kool-aid and fish are jumping - yes jumping for the sheer joy of it?

Are you wondering where those days are?

Are you sitting quietly thinking - oh, I best not stroke that nostalgic old beast that can live quite quietly thank you very much. I don't need to think about hot sultry nights when we'd all gather in the hotel and one of the women would start to sing summmer summmmmmmer tiiiiiiiiime and we'd be sort of boozily freaked maybe but still all was forgiveable wasn't it? And maybe we'd worked that day and maybe we'd wobbled instead because there wasn't any apple pie in the cook hall and anyway fire season was nearly upon us and we'd be out of work soon enough. The geo-duckers were due in town shortly with their great amounts of money and good dope and cool good looks - clean to the loggers' patina of sweat and dirt and tan. Then we'd all party. We'd all party at the hotel and play the jukebox and then wander down to someone's house and keep on partying. Someone would start some drama - some gal would kiss some other gal's fella and then the shit would fly. Or someone would dis some guy for not climbing the seniority ladder fast enough. But then we'd hear that song, 'and the living is eaaaaaasy' and we'd remember that these are the days, yes these are the days.

assignment: grab an old song out of the air and free fall with it - let yourself go for the pure joy of it - riff until you're quite done. There. Good.