Fallen and Flawed

Letting My Hair Down [I Think I Might Die]

We’ve got a tradition at our house called Fun Food Friday.

It’s the day of the week when we spread the blanket on the living room floor and eat dinner in front of the TV.

Usually we’ll watch a movie like Wall*E or vegetate on Boomerang network.  

The point is to relax our usually rigid rules. And let our hair hang out…which I have to confess is enormously difficult for me. 

See, I grew up in a home where carpets were vacuumed once a day and clutter of any type could send us into a black mood.

So, naturally, I bristled at this idea of “Fun Food Friday.” In fact, I begged my wife for time to pray. To meditate. In a nutshell, to stall.

Eventually I gave in and decided “letting our hair down” a little wasn’t going to make me hyperventilate. And you know what? I actually enjoy Fun Food Friday. In fact, I look forward to it each week.

Now, bringing this attitude to my blog…that’s another story. 

I tend to be a serious, hard-nosed theological bookworm. It doesn’t help that I nurse a blue-collar work ethic. Work for me is fun.

But that’s not true for most of the population. 

That’s why I’m trying to lighten the mood a little today. To let my hair down. [Ugh, makes me cringe just to write it.]

I don’t normally do this kind of stuff–and I can’t promise you I will ever again…but…why not…who could it kill? 

Deal is, both Sean Platt and Carlos Whitaker are inspirations for this post. Both have such warm, approachable auras at their blogs…especially when it comes to their children.  

So, I’m trying to take a clue from them. Let’s see if I get this right.

Most of you don’t know this but in a previous life I was a failed poet. And novelist [pdf].

Don’t hold it against me cause one of the hangovers from that era of my life is that I still have very creative bones. At least a bent in that direction.  

Unfortunately, I’ve hardly nurtured those bones. Until recently. 

What I wanted to do today was share with you a strange song I wrote about two weeks ago. It came in a fit of inspiration while hanging out with some men, which, as you’ll see, is a bit bizarre. 

You might recognize the opening line from a Sunday School song you used to sing. Not sure how it popped into my head because I never went to Sunday school.

But I’ll tell you how I see it playing out: Imagine Daniel Smith, Tricky and Bob Dylan on a very small stage.  

I’m a fan of Dylan’s early, early ballads. Danielson’s glitchy guitar melodies. And Tricky’s slow motion, spoken songs. If you can picture those three playing music, you’re close to hearing the magic I hear. On to the song.  

Careful little eyes what you see
There’s a dangerous guitar player at the jamboree
Who wears boots made of brittle bone
Who draws every breath from being alone
Who shuffles in burnt jeans
And who wears a blouse with fifteen
Unbuttoned buttons silver and pristine
Who wears a scarf bearing a flame
Under a chin that’s not the same as any man I’ve ever seen
And that hat flat cocked over that eye
That I warn you children, stay close, stay shy
Cause he plucks with fingers
In the mahogany darkness all polite
Around the fantastic brothel bound night
Lulling down around my knees
My children look away, stay close to me….

Literature buffs might think back to Tolstoy’s novella The Kreutzer Sonata for inspiration. You’d be right if you did. 

Here’s the deal, though: I’m kind of stuck. Stuck as in…I don’t know how to finish it. Or stuck as in, I don’t really want to finish it. More likely, stuck as in…I’m just lazy.  

That’s where you come in. Tell me how you think I should finish it off. Or if I should throw it away.

Better yet: Play guitar? Want to write and sing and record it and then share it with the world and we’ll split the profit? If so, talk to me.

I look forward to hearing from you. Have a great Friday. And by the way…let your hair hang out. If you have any.

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Tags: Bizarre, Creativity, Songs

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