Play Harmonica With Me.
September 14, 2004, 03:34 pmI just got back from my haircut. I dunno how I feel about it.
I've been listening to Iron and Wine The Creek Drank the Cradle. It has really calmed me down, like when a cat climbs in your lap. Sam Beam's voice is like whispering in my ear saying “Everything will be okay. A year from now, the things that are upsetting you now will be long forgotten.”
Or maybe that's just what I want to hear.
I absolutely love the line in Bird Stealing Bread, “do his hands in your hair feel a lot like a thing you believe in?”
I can imagine his voice as the ideal parent-singing-their-sick-child-to-sleep voice. And now that I think of it, I have no recollection of either my parents singing to me, and it stikes me as a bit odd. They can both sing well enough (although, for reasons I can't really remember, there was an ongoing joke at Christmastime when my dad would sing “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...”, much like Bill Murray as a lounge singer on SNL would sing “Star Wars...”. And my sister and I would cover our ears with our hands and in faux-agony plead, “No No No!”).
For one of our many fancy home movies (with plots! and soundtracks!), my dad played harmonica over the end of the movie. And I remember him telling me that he played it and being blown away that my dad could play harmonica (I was six or so). I wish that he would play harmonica with me.