I'll share with you now my own account of romance. My mood on this subject swings wildly from coast to coast. From the Adirondacks to the Sierra Nevadas. From the Gulf Coast to the Hudson Bay. Love between mother and son, love between friends, love for a stranger, God's love, the love between you and me. What the hell. What better time to let go than this day. What better time to look into my mind's eye and see what I find.
Headed down south to the land of the pines
And I'm thumbin' my way into North Caroline
Starin' up the road
And pray to God I see headlights
My first official Valentine's Day found me on the wrong side of a breakup. She was my first girlfriend, the one I kissed under blue Christmas lights on a bathroom sink. I had bought her a gold necklace and had planned to take her to a nice little Chicago Italian restaurant where the surprise would be sprung upon her. Instead she broke up with me that day. It was one of the shittiest things I've ever had to do calling the restaurant and cancelling my plans. She found me again two weeks later, and we remained together for another few months. Thank God that happened, or I think I would have given up on romance right then and there. And I don't think I would ever do the gold and dinner thing again. It annoys me that anybody with a couple hundred bucks can not even think about what he's doing and still impress a woman. I don't go for women who fall for it either. Many of my romantic endeavors fail, to be sure, but I at least attempt to put some thought into it.
I made it down the coast in seventeen hours
Pickin' me a bouquet of dogwood flowers
And I'm a hopin' for Raleigh
I can see my baby tonight
And I really wish that holidays were everyday occurrences. Why do we only show how much we care four or five days a year? Shouldn't every day be Valentine's Day? or Christmas? Or Birthday?
So rock me mama like a wagon wheel
Rock me mama anyway you feel
Hey mama rock me
Rock me mama like the wind and the rain
Rock me mama like a southbound train
Hey mama rock me
My second significant Valentine involved not a relationship, but several. There was a girl who used to come into the cafe I managed. I don't remember her name, but she was young, eighteen I think. I was twenty one. I'm not even sure how it came about that I asked her out for Valentine's Day. She didn't have a boyfriend, though, and I didn't have any plans, so I thought it would be fun to take her out. She had a curfew though, so I arranged to have Chinese food delivered to the cafe after we closed. Flowers, candles, the whole nine yards.
Little did I know that two weeks after I made plans I would start dating another girl, the one who would end up being my part-time fiance. Remember the magic kiss? At the time, that pretty much did it for me. We had been friends for a year or so, casually. I still had a girlfriend when we met, and then we dated other people. She was with a friend of mine briefly, so I saw her often. I refused to give up my date with the other girl, but I assured "Mia" that she was the only one on my mind, that I couldn't break my date after I had already committed. So what happens? Mia comes waltzing in the cafe a half hour before my date!! She saw the candles and the flowers and the food! It took all the cajoling I could muster to get her to leave and trust that everything was going to be fine.
Runnin' from the cold up in New England
I was born to be a fiddler in an old-time stringband
My baby plays the guitar
I pick a banjo now
That task accomplished, unnamed woman and I sat down to eat. Not ten minutes in, I hear a knock on the cafe door. I looked up to see a girl I once dated briefly standing there smiling with her boyfriend beside her. Um......... I was not very good at saying no back then. I let them in, and because they had nothing else to do For Valentine's Day, I invited them to sit down and enjoy dinner with us. Whew! i am already getting tired just thinking about it!
Oh, the North country winters keep a gettin' me now
Lost my money playin' poker so I had to up and leave
But I ain't a turnin' back
To livin' that old life no more
Later that night as I was locking up the cafe, a coworker called, crying and distressed because she had just gotten into a fight with her boyfriend. "Come on, Laura," I said. "Let's go out for a Valentine's drink." We did. She cried some more. We came back to the cafe afterwards and.... she cried some more. And that was it. I spent the night with a blind date, a future fiancee, an ex, and a distraught coworker. Hahaha. You don't forget things like that. Funny, though, out of all of them, the quiet one whose named I don't remember is probably the one I should have paid the most attention to. I'll bet she made somebody very very happy.
So rock me mama like a wagon wheel
Rock me mama anyway you feel
Hey mama rock me
Rock me mama like the wind and the rain
Rock me mama like a south-bound train
Hey mama rock me
So what's with the italics, you ask? Well, a coworker today gave me a cd that her boyfriend made of bluegrass songs, one that I've been asking for for quite some time. I was spurred on by an Allison Krauss song called Jacob's Dream. Oh my God, it's beautiful. If I do nothing else before I die, I will see her in concert, front row. She has the voice of an angel. So, I was given this cd of bluegrass tunes, and I am enjoying it so much I thought I'd share some of the music with you, since this is what's going to be in my cd player for at least two weeks.
But it's this song that's on my mind this day. This version is by a band called Old Crow Medicine Show, and the song is called Wagon Wheel. It is just so honest and simple. I love it so. Play it. Over and over if you like. Since this is my blog, I get to choose when to let go and not think about how impossible anything is, but rather tonight I'd like to think about how possible things can be. Unfortunately it's all in my mind at the moment. Nothing's real, but I feel it all the same. Some of my sentiments are memories, others are of what ought to come.
I see her here, spinning circles, dancing like she doesn't know it, 'cross the hardwood floor. She's dancing to this song. I don't want her to pledge her love to me. I am not sure I even know how to win such a thing. I get nervous. All I really want to tell her is that I want her to come a little closer, to see me beneath the light she shines on my life. Dance with me. Find my pulse. Let me find her's. I can see her hips turning into mine as I'm stirring the pot. I can feel her hands in my pocket as I turn around to take her hand and shuffle around the room. If anyone was watching us we would look like amateurs, but I would still feel like Fred Astaire. I've got spaghetti sauce on my lip, she's in jeans and a smile, and we're dancing the night away. A twirl and a dip, my hands slide down her hips. When I fall asleep at night, I want to get lost in the fragrance of her hair. I want my fingers to find a home on the small of her back and for her feet to be tucked into mine. And when I wake, when she's gone, I want to remember her scent on the pillow next to me. There is nothing in all the world like sensing a woman's presence in your home. I want to see her boots standing still in a corner of the room. I want to be amazed everyday. Rock me mama, anyway you feel.
Oh boy, I'm drained. For all of you lovers out there, hold on tight. For everyone else, I hope you find a hip to swing towards........... Happy Lover's Day
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