Long Toad Evenin'

For the past week or so I have been listening to "Astral Weeks" by Van Morrison. I don't know what it is exactly... the instrumentation, the quality of the playing, the evocative lyrics, the familiar voices, or maybe it's just where I think I was when I remember first (and often) listening to it. I think I was in the desert outside Tucson, where I lay on my back looking at the summer night sky, and I was playing it on my 8 track in the cab of my flatbed truck. Or not. Maybe it just takes me there, to 1969, the summer I turned 21. 

Maybe it's the image of Cyprus Avenue and its habitues, or the Ballerina, or the Slim Slow Slider... maybe it's just the fact that I never knew I would hear these words in this order, and have never since: "If I ventured in the slipstream, between the viaducts of your dream"... Could you find me... to be born again.

The lyrics here: Astral Weeks Lyrics

ATTRIBUTION

I used to have to help my mom find my dad. I think sometimes he just needed a way to have his voice; to keep from feeling lost, getting lost, or going into slippery places. He was smart, he was good looking, and made friends wherever he went. He had a way with words. I think he would have been a remarkable blogger. 

He was born in Texas, and was even a cowboy a couple of times. From him, and from the silver screen heroes Gene, Roy, and Ben Johnson, I learned that a real cowboy took care of his responsibilities, and never put his horse away wet. Here we go...no wet horses.