Life is Just a Song

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Music just makes life tolerable, don’t you think? 

This past weekend we had the privilege of going to Gruene Hall, the “Historical Marker” of Texas music, to see Ray Benson and his band, Asleep at the Wheel, perform.  That old stage has had everybody who’s anybody play on it over the years, but to see this particular band play on that particular stage is like seeing in person the Pope deliver a homily at St. Peter’s Cathedral, or watching Mickey Mantle play centerfield in Yankee Stadium. 

If you’ve ever been to Gruene Hall, you may know that it was built in 1878, which makes it 138 years old!  It bills itself as the oldest continually running dancehall in Texas, although some other Texas dance halls argue that point.  You are absolutely transported back in time the minute you pass through those old screen doors.  Original advertisements from the 30’s and 40’s hang, undisturbed, from the rafters.  There are tilt up wooden window flaps that run along both sides of the hall to make the place more tolerable on hot, muggy summer nights.  If you happen to need to go to the men’s restroom just before the show, you’ll have to make your way through the band and step through their equipment in the little room to the side of the stage.  Don’t worry, they don’t mind; it’s all part of being at Gruene Hall. 

But what really makes the place unique is that old wooden floor!  Many a boot has been scooted across that floor, and many a belt buckle has been polished there.  I suspect the floor has been replaced several times over the years, but it’s those 3-inch wide wooden slats, worn smooth, laid upon beams, spanning from pier to pier, that really makes Gruene Hall a special place.  You see, when everything is just right…when the band really gets into it and the crowd gets to moving, really feeling the music, that wooden floor starts this gentle movement in time with the beat.  It’s not really just a bounce, but more like a heartbeat, a pulse.  When we were there Friday night, and the band started playing “Route 66”, I closed my eyes, just to take it all in.  I suppose it was my pure Texan blood flowing through me that made it seem at that moment like I was feeling the actual heartbeat of my wonderful state, and all that it encompasses…music like that, places like that, friends like that, stories like that, people like that, times like that.  It all felt so good as if flowed through my veins!  

As I said before, music makes life tolerable.  I can’t imagine my life without music.  I like all kinds …from country & western, rock & roll, Americana, swing, classical, even our own native “conjunto tejano” music (think of Flaco Jimenez and his accordion with the Texas Tornados), which was started in south Texas back in the early 1900’s, blending Mexican with German folk music.

Music is like a magic potion that helps us understand, study, analyze, and deal with the events of our lives – the traumas, the joys, the sorrows, and the happiness.  It can heal us.  It can transport us.  It can stir our memories.  It can make us feel young, and old.

Of course, humans have been stringing words together to tell poetic stories for thousands of years (beginning with the biblical Psalms, perhaps?).  I love it when I hear a string of words that is expertly crafted, and I envy those who have the talent to do that.  There are certain songwriters that come to mind who just have a way of putting words and syllables together in such an efficient and colorful way that you just shake your head and smile.

There is a songwriter named Paul Thorne who wrote a song comprised of nothing more than a collection of little sayings that he always heard his mom say.  It’s called “That’s Life”.  Here’s a few of the lines:

Thank you, I’m ok, I guess.  I just need a little rest.
I’ll catch up on my sleep tonight.  I ain’t complaining, that’s life

I’ve got blueberries in the yard.  I bought a hundred mason jars.
I’m gonna pick them when they’re ripe.  Another season.  That’s life. 

Wipe that tear out of your eye.  Behind the clouds the sun still shines.
You’re in my prayers every night.  Enjoy the journey.  That’s life. 

I have this picture in my mind of a couple of those early psalmists, sitting around a campfire three thousand years ago, working out a new psalm, plucking on a lute…one of them suddenly spits out,

“Not so the wicked!  They are like chaff that the wind blows away!” 

The other one is just in awe, his jaw drops when he hears those words. 

“Man,” he says.  “That’s pretty good stuff, that bit about the chaff!  How’d you come up with that?” 

They struggle over a few more lines, then the second one comes up with,

“Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation”. 

“Whooaa!  Dude!   Rock of our salvation!  Now that’s good!”

If I had to nominate a song from my lifetime for having the absolute best, most colorful and descriptive lines, it would have to be from a popular country and western song (of course) sung by George Strait: 

Pardon me, you left your tears on the jukebox.
And I’m afraid they got mixed up with mine.
I don’t mean to pry, it’s just that I noticed you, going out of your mind
Looks like we’re two of a kind.

Of course, the title to the song is just as much of a winner:  “Let’s Fall to Pieces, Together”!

Some of the most well-written songs that have been with me since I first started really appreciating music are by Jimmy Buffett.  His early ballads and love songs will always be my “classics” (“A Pirate Looks at Forty”, Havana Daydreamin’”, and “Cowboy in the Jungle”, to name a few, can paint such a clear picture).  And then there’s Guy Clark, a Texas legend and poet who’s not long for this world now.  Clark was living in Los Angeles in the early 70’s, wishing he was back in Texas, when one day his landlord came over and started cutting down a tree because it was causing cracks in the concrete driveway.  The brutal irony of that scene made him leave L.A. and move back to Texas, but not before he wrote the classic song “L.A. Freeway”.  Jackson Browne, Hal Ketchum, James Taylor, Willie Nelson, Larry Gatlin, Don Henley, Bonnie Raitt…my list of favorite songwriters goes on forever!

And what would the words of a great song be without the music to go along with them!  I’m in awe of anyone who can play a guitar, piano, drums, or any musical instrument for that matter.  I’ve tried to play the guitar, and know a few basic chords well enough to sound half-way respectable to the non-discerning ear, but I love it when I get to watch a truly talented musician ply their craft.  To hear the raw emotion when Stevie Ray Vaughan gets going on his electric guitar is…electric!  It’s like that guitar is part of him.  One of the true sad things in life is that the classic instrumental jam that happens at the end of Janis Joplin’s recording of “Me & Bobby McGee” is so short!  That should have been allowed to continue for another epic 10 minutes, it is so good!  Elton John’s piano…the tight sounds of the Zac Brown Band…and who can make a guitar sing the blues like B.B. King?

In those few short hours at Gruene Hall the other night, I was reminded how powerful music is.  As that wonderful band of musicians played and sang their songs for us, I could look around the room and see just about every human emotion there is…the love of the 70-something couple dancing in the corner, swaying together to their own beat, much slower than the actual beat of the song, but not caring at all…the wide-eyed awe of the two little kids, about 10 years old or so, who sat at the foot of the stage all night long, while their mom and granddad stood back behind, proudly introducing another generation to wonderful Texas music…the two Chinese guys, also right up front by the stage, dancing awkwardly but singing every single word along with the band…to the cute 22 year-old gal in front of us, hugging and dancing with the guy beside her (her boyfriend?), all the while making eyes with the guy behind me (her soon to be boyfriend?)….to the professional two-stepping couple who were doing their best maneuvering in the crowd, only wishing for more space on the dance floor to really let it fly!     

(Note…I learned the day after writing this blog entry that the great Guy Clark had indeed passed away on Tuesday, May 17th.  Needless to say, I spent this past weekend enjoying his great music!  RIP, Guy.)

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