Saw John Prine in New York City a few weeks back and just a few days after seeing Bob Dylan. It can be hard going to these shows; simply wading through the degrees of reverence is exhausting. This is particularly true amidst a bunch of Upper West Side sorts all straining to “be in the moment” while bristling in Worst White Person Fashion at any perceived interruption. The woman two seats down getting a beer dumped on her head at Dylan really eased me up some. You would have thought she received unimaginable news from the front line regarding her only son. Something perfect about Bob straining with the words to “Early Roman Kings” while some stuffed shirt reenacts the final scene from “Carrie.”
But Prine .. yeah. That first line from the tune .. “summer’s end, around the bend, just flyin‘” .. I don’t think there’s ever been a better or easier “we all got it comin’ ” writer. He really captures that sense of foreboding joy. I’ve been listening to it while sitting with my mother and it is indeed a time-stopper. There isn’t a better view on this planet (and I’ve seen a few of them) than that from her living room. In that moment all regrets evaporate. But really, enough of this shit.
All for now. This may be my new brevity-centered format going forward and for my stretch run. I mean, how much can a man write about Facebook and Tim Lincecum, anyway?
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