I spent pretty much all afternoon locked in the kitchen brewing beer, cooking chili, and baking bread. Cooking when it’s hot is THE WORST. Cooking in the cool autumn weather with the backdoor open is THE BEST. While I did all that, I was listening to these:
When I pulled this out, I thought to myself, “Shit, another children’s record. I’ve had TOO MANY of those lately.” Now, don’t get me wrong, I love them, but, enough is enough, okay? They all start to sound the same after a while. The farmer is in the dell, I GET IT. But, this one was different. This record was fantastic. So many great songs on here. I don’t remember listening to this type of thing as a kid, but I feel like maybe, at some point, I did and it sunk in and I stored it way back in my brain for some other point in my life. Also, the album cover is just ridiculously nice to look at.
I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t like Buddy Holly. Or, I don’t understand him. Or, I’m not sure. It’s something. There’s something about him that I just don’t get. But this album kind of laid it all out there for me and he started to make a little more sense. So, maybe I’ll come back to Buddy Holly and really attempt to hear him and figure him out. Maybe he does live? Maybe he’s living in a coach house in Seattle with Elvis RIGHT NOW. (By the way, Elvis is someone else that I don’t really understand. Yeah, I know. I’m THAT GUY.)
This is one of those albums that I own and I have a feeling it should probably be LOCKED AWAY in a vault somewhere because it’s WORTH SOMETHING and I should not let a 4-year-old and a 2-year-old climb on top of the crate that it’s stored in. But, I don’t worry about that type of thing. It goes around and it plays songs that Jack said and I feel like he’s there with me. And that’s all I need it for. “What are you saying, Jack? Oh, I see. Yeah, I know. Yeah, that’s true.” I understand Jack Elliott and I also don’t understand him at all, but want to keep trying to figure him out. Look at him leaning on that guitar case. It’s some photo shoot that he was probably a part of. What do you think he’s got spinning around under his hat while the photographer is trying to snap his picture? I wonder. I wonder. Do you think the photographer had an easy time at that session? I wonder that too.
This four-record album is three records too long. I am probably just not HIGH TONED enough to listen to opera music, even when the lyrics are inexplicably in English. It’s boring to me. Although, I will say, it made for soothing background music. I found my mind eased. My shoulders relaxed. My forehead unfurrowed. So that’s something, perhaps. (Note: I had a college roommate who said PERHAPS in almost every sentence that he spoke. PERHAPS he had some sort of issue? Or, PERHAPS he didn’t know what the word PERHAPS meant? PERHAPS he should have slept less and gone to more classes? PERHAPS he shouldn’t have worn that New York Yankees hat every single day? PERHAPS.)