on that bright and cloudless morning (part 2)

driving from texas into new mexico, my family would cross the border at farwell, follow 84 through clovis and fort sumner, and on up to I-40. 40 leads right into albuquerque, where my granddad used to live. my family would usually drive out there in the summer and every other christmas. maybe its because its a fairly epic road trip to take in one day, (starting from rising star, texas, then sweetwater, carbon, bryan and finally richards) that makes these memories stand out in general. beginning sometimes before dawn even broke. my dad and his coffee, we kids piled in the back seat with our pillows, ready to fall asleep again as soon as we were on the road. im not even sure how old i was when all this began, or how old i was when the following memory happened, and to be quite honest, it may have been one time, or an amalgamation of memories that i recall, but somewhere between moriarty, and albuquerque, you start to go up into the mountains. and like i said, i was young, and this was the end of a very long day, so typically we kids were asleep at this point in the evening. to make it better, i dont remember music playing the entire rest of the journey. but going through that mountain pass, the pressure change going into the mountains would always wake me up, and i swear, every single time i would wake up in those mountains, 'ring of fire' would be playing. those trumpets, that deep voice, the epic swell of the chorus as johnny cash recounted over and over how he fell into that burning ring. none of it really really made sense, but i liked it.

the biggest question that haunts me, when it comes to my memories, is time. the aforementioned may have been my earliest memory. or perhaps it was when i was riding with my dad in his little yellow truck out to his mothers house one spring morning and, like you do, we were singing hymns. my dad in his earth shaking baritone, and me trying to be as manly and like my dad as is possible at however old i was at the time. four, maybe. the two hymns i most equate with my father, out of all the hundreds that were played in church week after week for the first 19 years of my life, are 'when the roll is called up yonder' and 'on jordan's stormy banks'. not knowing what a yonder was or why it was rolling can make for some pretty interesting visual images for a kid. especially paired with morning breaks, trumpets sounding, and the dead rising. im not sure if thats why i remember that particular song from that period of my life, but the latter has a much more specific memory attached to it. as i said, my dad and i were headed out to my grandmothers on a crisp fall morning singing, 'on jordan's stormy banks i stand and cast a wishful eye...' at some point my dad asked me or i asked him what a wishful eye was. like i said, i was four, maybe. he pulled the truck over and pointed off in the distance, he swore he could see my grandmother's barn from where we were and said he wished he was there, and thats what having a wishful eye was. i couldnt see it, and i think it wound up frustrating him, but i got the point, and he got to be apart of another of my earliest memories. more importantly to you dear reader, it may have been the first song that i really began to understand the words to. songs were no longer just words i didnt know set to a melody that made me feel epic on sunday mornings, when 20 to 30 voices in unison would make that spot deep inside my chest swell up, and make me want to join in the cacophonous beauty. i began to think about what i was singing. not critically mind you, i was just aware of it, and usually accepted it.

johnny horton didnt come too far behind johnny cash and the hymns. 'the battle of new orleans' could probably be considered the theme song to my childhood. i would act out the words as best i could, listening to the song over and over off my dads tape, making my own little music video, if you will. this was probably where my patriotism and love for the army began. a love affair that lasted until i saw those plastic starships in service merchandise one evening and was immediately turned into a trekkie. but thats a whole other story. my dad watched war movies, so i watched war movies. the ones about the civil war usually had music where they would sing at least on the sound track, if not have a part where the soldiers would be singing along. i would listen, pause, write the words. listen, pause, write the words, until i had the song down. thats what caught my attention next, a natural progression i suppose, but i learned songs from the civil war. 'the yellow rose of texas', 'dixie', 'the battle hymn of the republic'. i loved that that one was in the hymnal at church too. i remember the music more than the movies i think. but if i didnt, this little anecdote wouldnt be very relevant in this particular situation would it?

thank you dear readers