My Wildest Dreams
I think the storm has blown over. I made my way back to the hammock. Maybe we’ll put some burgers on the grill. I caught part of a song on the radio.
Hm. Great mandolin. Wonder who that was? “In my Wildest Dreams.” Nice tune. Hey that’s Donna Ulissee. Didn’t catch it all. What would we do without music? Sometimes I grow weary of not being able to cure everybody. There is much pain and suffering here on Earth. I guess Ms Donna’s point was at least for a while art can take us away from the reality we can’t do much about.
I nodded in and out of sleep. In my wildest dreams all of the world will understand the truths in the music, and folks will abandon aggression. I think of a scene in ‘The Mandolin Case’ and smile. At least in Harvey County grace and dignity prevailed. Indie always did have a lot of friends; folks like Snookers Molesby and Mason Marley. Heck, even little Tommy Bibey helped. There were just too many bluegrass folks who knew the truth for the others to overcome their efforts. That crowd who chased Indie never understood what had transpired, and they still scratch their heads and ask what went wrong.
Maybe it’s like trying to approach infinity, but we have to keep trying with both music and literature, huh?
The rain started back, and pinged away on the tin roof. I’d already moved the hammock away from the leak in the roof, so no fears. I dozed off again.
Tags: WritingYou can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.