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Blogs by Bob Hicks
old songs, old maps 4/10/2004 10:21:42 AM
Stayed up too late again last night... and overslept again this morning. So what else is new? During brunch with Miss Holloway, the radio (not sure which station, or program... just something Miss Holloway likes) played old-time music. Now, I mean OLD time music. I think it was a PBS program or something. Anyway, the opening words to one of the songs were, "My father is a drunkard / my mother, she is dead / I am just an orphan child / no place to lay my head." Love that corny old stuff. I was transported back to a time when I lived in Atlanta with my wife and daughter. We were enroute to Athens of a Saturday morning to visit with my parents... driving along a two-lane country road. The car radio was on and Burl Ives started singing, "Sally doesn't live here anymore." Well, an early summer morning in north Georgia, beloveds within easy reach, and the promise of fried chicken dinner with the folks does not comprise reason for melancholy... but suddenly, tears were streaming down my cheeks like the Chatoog River. Go figure. My wife knew me pretty well, and simply handed me a tissue. Our daughter was busy marvelling at the red clay countryside, and didn't notice a thing. I'm not all that old... still strong, able to hold a thought, and anticipating long, productive years ahead... but I think I know why old folks always seem to have rheumy eyes; they listen to the old songs in their heads.
