Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Hobo's Meditation by Jimmie Rodgers: Additional Verse


The Singing Brakeman: Jimmie Rodgers. A talented songwriter who died tragically of tuberculosis in the mid thirties. He was 35.

This song has been recorded by Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash and the fabled distaff Trio: Ronstadt, Parton and Harris. Folksingers of all stripes have a fondness for it.

The original lyric:

written by Jimmie Rodgers
© 1933 Peer International Corp

Last night as I lay on the boxcar
Just waiting for a train to pass by
What will become of the hobo
Whenever his time comes to die

There's a Master up yonder in heaven
Got a place that we might call our home
Will we have to work for a living
Or can we continue to roam

Will there be any freight trains in heaven
Any boxcars in which we might hide
Will there be any tough cops or brakemen
Will they tell us that we cannot ride

Will the hobo chum with the rich man
Will we always have money to spare
Will they have respect for the hobo
In that land that lies hidden up there

Will there be any freight trains in heaven
Any boxcars in which we might hide
Will there be any tough cops or brakemen
Will they tell us that we cannot ride

Will the hobo chum with the rich man
Will we always have money to spare
Will they have respect for the hobo
In that land that lies hidden up there

The repeat of the last two stanzas lands heavy. Could there be more?

Bill in Alabama (user name) is a prolific poster at www.mudcat.org:

"Our family performed this song with great success for many years, but we felt that it needed another verse; so, with apologies to Jimmie Rodgers, we came up with the following, sung as the final verse:"

In that sweet land that lies over yonder/ Does the warm summer sun always shine/ Will there be fences and watchdogs,/ And are the trains always on time?/
Are there orchards and gardens aplenty/ Where my friends will be waiting for me--/ Does God have a place for the wand'rer/ Where we'll be allowed to roam free?

Beautifully done.

Prior to discovering Bill's touching poetry, I humbly penned this:

When the last train rolls into glory / Will the rails be plated in gold?
When the passengers step to the platform / And all of their stories are told
Will we sit down at the same table / The rich and the poor every one?
Will we all see the Master in glory / In the place that shines bright as the sun.

What was a simple song now claims multiple authors and multiple forms, qualifying (to some yardsticks) as a folk song. Add a few verses of your own and well have an epic, right up there with Beowulf. Light the bonfire and pull up a log to sit on!

Thursday, September 23, 2010

High Desert Swap Meet 2010, Part 1: The Nash and the Model T



 
 
 

Mac and Lucille Clark lived across the street from us. Two daughters, Linda and Joan. Small, no, eentsy Montana town.
Mac was something of a genius, but not eccentric. His work ethic had him at the shop early and home late. He had a Nash.

When I espied this beauty at the HDSM, I was lurched back to that Norman Rockwell childhood and the Clarks' blue Nash. In it, you lifted the shift knob toward your face to engage the starter. Clever. That way, you could never start it in gear because the switch wouldn't work if the stick weren't in neutral.

The owner of this Nash had some brags: "First car ever designed in a wind tunnel," he proclaimed. He started it up; it purred. "Look at that exhaust manifold, cast right into the block!" That took some reflection. It seems like a good idea, but I'm not sure why it didn't become typical. Some expansion/contraction issues, I suspect.

Then there was the cluster of Model Ts.

Tack, or was it Spike, Van Cleve had a Model T, open touring car. He couldn't afford tires for it so he drove it on the streets of Big Timber on its rims. But it ran! Though the word is overused, the T is an icon. Not just of transportation in the United States, but also of manufacturing. A cursory study of the T will take you many directions: society, class, moguls, money, power, innovation, politics, labor, diversification, and on.


There are always questions when you come upon vintage or unusual vehicles (And there will be several more HDSM interrogatory-laden posts on this blog as time goes on) but this one is unusual:



"Why so cheap?"

These cars appeared to be in running condition. They looked original, not gussied up to some level of perfection simply not achieved in the first decate of the 20th century. One sign said $6500. Another, $6000. I found the owner, posed the question.

A genuine look of sadness crossed his face. He paused, looked down, then looked me in the eye: "I think it's because these younger people aren't interested in finding out about these cars."

Any color, as long as its black. The color of mourning.
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Friday, September 17, 2010

Friends of Joel Thomas, Barker Bassist, rally to help him fight ALS

Here's a link the site which not only describes how his local community is stepping up, but also provides an easy way for you to help. That link is at the bottom of the page, in the center:

Support Joel Thomas

(Let the slide show play and you'll see Joel with his Barker.)

You can click for the modern system, or mail a check.

The more you get to know Joel and about Joel, the larger this opportunity looms.