#423 Musings Beyond the Bunker (Saturday August 6)
Happy weekend!
MUSIC
Last weekend, we attended the John Fogerty concert at the Hollywood Bowl. There was a mix of ages in the audience, though skewing more toward my age. For many of us, it was a trip down memory lane. And the 78 year-old Fogerty gave it his all for 1:45, never leaving the stage.
While there were several notable songs from Fogerty’s solo career, and there were a few notable cover versions (I’d forgotten Creedence covered “Heard It on the Grapevine”), the majority of the concert was Creedence Clearwater Revival hits. While they were around for a while, their most productive years were 1968 to 1972 (when they broke up acrimoniously). It is startling the number of hits over that relatively short period in the sun—resembling (though hardly approaching, even for those of us who love CCR)the burst of creativity of the Beatles over a similarly abbreviated run.
For those who have been reading the Musings from the time we were huddled in our bunkers, you may recall that John posted mini-concerts from his home, sometimes with family members. It was great for him and great for us. What the pandemic allowed us to do was to peer into the homes of our icons and share our collective angst and hope. Here’s is “Proud Mary” on acoustic guitar, performed from deep in the pandemic:
And “Out My Back Door” from outdoors (quite literally, performed from out his back door):
POETRY
Before we leave the Joni Mitchell moments from last week behind, poetry for this week is “The Circle Game.” Somehow this bittersweet recounting of a maturing child, the cycles of life, and dreams seems particularly appropriate as we watch the icons of our youth age. As I read the words, they are somewhat reminiscent of “Cat in the Cradle” and “It Was a Very Good Year”:
Yesterday a child came out to wander
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star
And the seasons, they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return, we can only look
Behind, from where we came
And go round and round and round, in the circle game
Then the child moved ten times round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like, "When you're older" must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams
And the seasons, they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return, we can only look
Behind, from where we came
And go round and round and round, in the circle game
16 springs and 16 summers gone now
Cartwheels turn to car wheels through the town
And they tell him, "Take your time, it won't be long now
'Til you drag your feet to slow the circles down"
And the seasons, they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return, we can only look
Behind, from where we came
And go round and round and round, in the circle game
So the years spin by and now the boy is 20
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
There'll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through
And the seasons, they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return, we can only look
Behind, from where we came
And go round and round and round, in the circle game
And go round and round and round, in the circle game
Have a great weekend,
Glenn