Six weeks have almost passed now. It’s hard to believe that much time has trickled by. Robert has been away working in South Carolina, Arkansas, Tennessee…those southern states where people drawl out their words like hammocks between two trees and eat lots of fried stuff. Time has crept past, time has flown, I don’t remember all of it or how being alone unfolded for me, since he left so long ago. Days were eternal and short, elastic and snapping, yawning and sluggish. Oh! There was a terrible ten day period when I had an awful cold! I remember that. I was in Seattle for a bit. I worked. A lot. The weather turned nice, then ugly, then nice again. Now it’s been raining and squalling for a few days in a row and the wind, my friends, has been righteous and bitter. When I come down off the mountain at night with the dogs I can hardly feel my hands, though they are bundled in mittens and shoved in the pockets of my down vest.
So yes. Time has passed, slow or quick, or both at times. It has passed.
—————————————
This week I reached a point of deep weariness. I took a day off. Then I worked a couple of days in a row. I failed to answer your emails (still working on it). My phone broke. Again. Then a friend of mine, one of my favorite Wyoming girls, came to visit. Last night, she and I went to the Don Williams concert at the Pocatello performing arts center. It was sold out. We were like sardines in there. Do you remember how Robbie bought two tickets for my birthday? Well. Obviously my fella’s early season work detail in the glorious South of the USA prevented him from being my date (for so many things in the past six weeks) so I took my Wyoming girlfriend with me instead and she was marvelous company. Let me tell you, Don Williams is 73 years old now, a true country music legend, a Prince of Nashville, and when he opens his mouth to sing these days, he still sounds exactly like he did thirty years ago, just like his recordings. He sounds like warm, liquid velvet pouring over a stack of haybales where a pair of country folk are kissing in the light of a harvest moon. He sounded SO good. And when he stopped singing, his voice was the deepest, growliest voice I have ever heard in my life and he kept slowly exclaiming, because he does all things slowly, “You guys…you guys are somethin’ else…oh mercy…” While he strummed his guitar and sang, he rocked one of his snake-skin cowboy boots back and forth, back and forth. For upbeat songs, he added a sort of wiggle to his rocking boot. I couldn’t stop looking at that boot. I know it was snake-skin because we were five rows back from the stage and I could see such details. He has silver hair that really glimmers in the spotlight and covers most of it up with a funny old hillbilly hat.
He is dearly beloved by Idahoans. This became very apparent to me last night. We stomped our boots. We hooted. We hollered. We clapped our hands until they turned to stumps in the cuffs of our plaid shirts. We sang along to all his songs and a few times, he sat back from his microphone and simply played his guitar while we carried the song for him, gladly and merrily, like an enormous church choir, and he looked so pleased, like his tall, narrow frame was fat on our love and appreciation. I wish Robbie could have been there. I’d have kissed him hard during a couple of those songs and I’d not have cared if the people in the row behind us gawked.
Hearing Don sing some of his songs live made the lyrics seem that much richer and I was reminded of why I love country music, country people, small towns, horses in pastures, wheat stubble, pick-up trucks, worn in boots, flocks of wild turkeys and combines taking up both lanes on the highway. I remembered it all. Then I thought about how many beautiful people have fallen for each other while two-stepping to his songs, or while laying in the back of a truck with nothing but the radio on, under the stars and owls and quiet blinks of the jack rabbits. I thought about how his music carries us to times and places, over and over again, like the scent of spruce in winter or the feel of sun on skin. I keep thanking him for that, today, over and over again. His music is honest and at times, purely a manifesto of his very is-ness. What a man. His songs take me back to New Zealand, when I was 19 and Robbie was 21, and we used to drive around and listen to Don’s greatest hits album. Robbie and Brady would throw back their heads and fairly howl along to his music while the ocean wind blew in the windows and sand of Raglan Beach burned black under the sun.
So hey. Thanks for a great night, Don. You’re going to live forever in our hearts and on our radios.
And thanks to my Robert. Baby, those concert tickets are one of the best birthday presents you’ve ever given me. I wish you could have been here for it, but I know that sometimes a man has got to work — and I’m so thankful for your hard work. Get home soon, so I can treat you right.
X
Glad your hubby will be home soon, I know how much you’ve ached for him.
Been thinkin’ of you, hope you’re well.
XX
Been thinking about you too, babe.
Hope your trip was beautiful.
XX
Hey, you were talkin’ bout Don’s snakeskin boots. Well, darlin’, you got herself a mighty fine pair too, I see. Sounds like a very fun show. I betcha you sang real loud, when he played, “God, I hope this day is good”! Yeah!
RW will be home soon. Put on some Don Williams, a slow dance…treat him right! (So sweet)
“…I’m feelin’ empty and misunderstood
I should be thankful, Lord, I know I should
But Lord I hope this day is good…”
You KNOW I did!
Those blue boots are my newest thrifted pair:) Love ’em!
I’m going to need a storage unit soon though…the vintage cowboy boot collection is getting a little out of control here. 🙂
XX
beautiful blue boots, the color and the stitching!
so good.
sorry that RW couldn’t make it to that concert with you (he’s probably not too happy about that, either), but i’m glad you had a bestie who could appreciate that kind of fine time with you.
you sound real ready to have RW home, so i hope that’s soon.
and then you can pack up and move west–
yee haw!!
I rang him up on B’s phone, during the show, so he could hear a bit of it live. He said, “How is it that I’m in Nashville, wandering through the honky tonks looking for some good music while you’re there watching a country music legend play you all his best songs!???”
🙂
It’s real soon that he’ll be home.
And yes. The packing MUST begin now. The move to Winthrop for the season is LOOMING.
X
feeling this one deep
memories are such a gift
had a night like this recently myself
Ben Howard…with 3 couples, limousine and cocktails, being told to “settle down” while dancing in our seats…settle down??????
ending the night running in the back yard with the Christmas lights on
nice to know I still “have it” at this point of life
wishen you a lovely reunion with your man
love and light
Glad you had some good live music too, recently.
It makes me act like a wild thing too. 🙂
XX
so funny…..an admirer asked another artist friend recently if he could be anything, what would it be?…and the artist friend , who is fairly successful said ” well, a musician, of course!)….the admiring person was shocked… but he ( the artist) went on to talk about how music touches SO MANY and becomes so engrained in our collective psyches, and how he wishes he could affect people like this…and create something that folks mark their lives by….
Your New Zealand story made me think of that…
What a grand birthday celebration!…and you look like Rhapsody in Blue!
( I actually lived in Nashville for about 2 months years ago and I could not stop copying their accents! ) xx
Oh.
Totally.
Totally.
Music — it’s such a powerful thing.
Each time I talked to Robbie over the phone, while my phone still worked, while he was away, he had a little drawl coming out. It made me laugh!
Ah, a Nashville prince- so true. I love the blue vintage boots- they are divine. Almost as wonderful as your descriptions of the South. So glad RW will be home soon. 🙂
He’s home now!
It’s so wonderful!
Glad you had a good boot stompin’ hoot to beat out any blues – sounds wonderful! I hear you on the time paradox. It’s wild isn’t it? I feel like marriage/kids have been years and seconds of my life (all at once). Wasn’t it good ol’ C.S who said something about the way we can’t make sense out of the passing of time – like a fish out of water that keeps remarking at how ‘dry’ everything seems – because we have eternity stretched out in our hearts? Something like that, I like it….
I bet RW misses you loads too… what a firecracker to come home to! ;o)
xx
mel
needle and nest design
Sounds exactly like something Clive might say…wonderful quote.
XX
riding in the truck….singing along when don williams is on the radio….
Sounds like a good time!
So happy to hear that Robert is returning home soon! The concert sounds magnifique! My favorite from this story, though, has to be this: “Robert has been away working in South Carolina, Arkansas, Tennessee…those southern states where people drawl out their words like hammocks between two trees and eat lots of fried stuff.” The analogy of southern drawls and hammocks is so PERFECT. Thank you. The southern US will forever hold a place in my weary heart.
Isn’t it true though? 🙂 That analogy just rolled off my fingertips!
I have to tell you this short story. Robbie hates sushi but while in Arkansas he and the boys went out for dinner at a sushi restaurant. Rob tried some of the other meals that were ordered that night and to his great surprise, he liked the sushi! I was shocked! Then he told me that the sushi had been deep fried. GUFFAW!!!!!
It is SO true!
There’s tons of fried everything all over the south! We even fry Oreos (and BUTTER, and SODA) at the state fair! It’s so crazy.
..I have to admit. The fried oreos tasted amazing.
I don’t blame Robert one bit! 🙂
How have I not listened to Don Williams before?? I have loved country music for years. Have him playing on my iPhone now at work and it has made my day. Thanks for the inspiration Jillian!
My pleasure, sweetie pie! X