Ok. Morning meeting scheduled at the Atlanta airport. Snow forecast for maximum travel disruption potential. By the time I realize I might want to leave a day early to make sure I arrive, it’s too late. Flights are already full and/or canceled. But the forecast is shaky, and it looks at least possible that we’re gonna come in at the low end of the nightmare. I grab a seat on the first flight out of BWI, the 6 a.m. As the forecast firms up, it looks like it might be worst overnight and get better toward dawn. I move the 6 up to 7:30 and go to sleep.
More weather than we are
really comfortable with in
these parts.
At 5, there’s damn near a foot of new snow in the cul de sac. All Delta flights are canceled. But the ground has yet to freeze, oddly, and uncharacteristically the plow whips down the street at 5:30. It looks like I might be able to get my car out.
Or than the vegetation is
really comfortable with.
What the hell. I get it warming up, heave a few shovelfuls out from around the tires, and give it a go. Neil Diamond’s Cracklin’ Rosie playing respectfully. Car won’t budge. Stuck in front in the rain drain dip at the shoulder, in back at the plow line. Rocking doesn’t help. More shoveling doesn’t help. Pushing doesn’t help. Stop to think. Realize the problem. Rip the Neil Diamond out of the disk player. Slap in Three Inches of Blood. Spin the volume most of the way up. Pound it into first gear and gun it. The car slides parallel to the road, slips forward, grabs the pavement, and we’re on our way to the airport.
Neil Diamond box set.
Insufficient motivation for
a vehicle needing serious
steroidal assistance to make
it out into the arcticoid environment.
3 Inches of Blood. Chugging
extreme metal, lyrics about“goat riders”, “demon blades”,
“Hydra’s teeth”, and, most
effectively, “God of the cold white silence.” When that first distorted cord hit the speakers, the car navigated
itself onto the open road.
Arcticoid environment
making travel
difficult.
Although it IS pretty.
I know just what you’re thinking. “Neil Diamond?!? String-smothered phony love-song crap to end all string-smothered phony love-song crap?!?!? The guy who perpetrated Crunchy Granola Suite and Jonathan Livingston Seagull Suite?!” But then a few old neurons fire, and you think “But he did have a way with a tune. Holly Holy wasn’t bad. Solitary Man. Cherry Cherry rocked.” And then more neurons chime in: “But jeez, the dude perpetrated some of the most egregious rhymes of all time, and that includes Dr. Seuss, Jim Morrison, and Sergeant Barry Sadler.”
And indeed he did. However, he also wrote some of the best rock and pop of all time. And sometimes…well, often, really…the most egregious rhymes and the best all time music were in the same songs.
Since I was a kid, I’ve considered this couplet from I Am I Said one of the Top Ten Bad Rhymes of All Time: “I am I said…to no one there…and no one heard at all…not even the chair…”.
Now that I see it written out, it has to easily make it to the Top Three.
How about this one from Done Too Soon (which, BTW, despite the long story about high school history class on Billy Joel’s entry in allmusic.com, explains a lot about the origin of We Didn’t Start the Fire): “Wolfie Mozart…Humphrey Bogart…”.
Hmm…we could be looking at two of the Top Three right there.
You know, we could do this all day. From Boat That I Row: “Don’t go around with a local crowd…don’t dig what’s in so I guess I’m out…”. Grass Won’t Pay No Mind: “…and our time will be our time…and the grass won’t pay no mind.” You know a song titled I Got the Feeling (Oh No No) has to have a bad rhyme, and you won’t be disappointed: “I love you so much I could taste it…but girl your eyes tell me it’s wasted.” Finally, this gem from America: “…in the eye of the storm…freedom’s light burning warm…”.
“FREEDOM’S LIGHT BURNING WARM!?!?!?”
Ah, well. Turns out, if you cherry-pick that 3 disk box, you can come up with a very credible one-disk driving CD. I do suggest you pass on some of the hits—He Ain’t Heavy He’s My Brother is as bad as you remember from the Holly’s version. Longfellow Serenade, Forever in Blue Jeans, Play Me, and Song Sung Blue are all pretty much unlistenable. However, if you compile…
Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show
Cherry, Cherry
America
The Boat That I Row
Cherry, Cherry (claims to be an “alternate version”, really it’s a completely different song)
Clown Town
Cracklin' Rosie
Dry Your Eyes (from The Last Waltz, which ought to give you Neil Diamond skeptics out there some pause to consider the credibility needed to be invited to do THAT gig)
Love On The Rocks
Flame
Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon
Holly Holy
I Am... I Said
I'm A Believer
Kentucky Woman
Red, Red Wine
Scotch On The Rocks (supposedly demo for Love on the Rocks, not much related)
Solitary Man
Done Too Soon
Soolaimon
Sweet Caroline
Thank The Lord For The Night Time
…you’ll have an hour or so of some of the best pop music ever written and recorded. It might not get your Honda Fit up, out, and on the road on a snowy morning. But it’ll work very well for your usual commute.
Oh. Made my flight. None of the lawyers from D.C. did. Probably could have saved the client a couple grand by going downtown to the lawyer’s office instead of flying to Atlanta.
Oh (redux). If anybody wants a copy of the Neil Diamond driving CD outlined above, lemme know. It’s all teed up on my hard drive, ready to cut you a copy to send.
Remember if you have a little more time, visit the rest of this weblog empire: http://docviper.livejournal.com/ , http://theresaturtleinmysoup.blogspot.com/, and http://sustainablebiospheredotnet.blogspot.com/. Thanks!
In closing, a couple more snow photos:
