Musical Interlude, Double

Lordy. One thing leading to another on this interwebs thing today. Foster to Griffith. Yes, remember when Jon and Susan Leo took me to Cerritos to see Nanci Griffith for my birthday? I do.
Susan knew I love Nanci Griffith and made it happen. Somebody in the theatre called my name that night. I thought "Who knows me here? I don't know anyone, really." But I did know someone; a guy I work with, Craig Perry, along with his to-be-bride, was there, they'd made the trip down to Cerritos too.
Smallish world of good taste -- that's the way I roll.
Art is me.
Later Mr. Perry was with me in Israel too, I just remembered. Craig had lived in Morocco, loved it there and was tempted by some appeal of Islam, but back in California he married the lady rabbi, converted that direction from his Presbyterian background, instead of toward Mecca, Yahweh rather than Allah, and he and she moved to Georgia. Jon and Susan moved to Florida and then Tennessee. I stayed put. So far. Though Jon probably got me a job in Florida and did get me a job in Tennessee, I turned 'em down. Big mistake.
Jon wasn't too excited that night in Cerritos, he's a Jimmy Buffet guy, but Nanci Griffith won him over. Did I ever say thanks, Susan? Thanks, Jon?
I owe you more than I could ever pay.

I first heard Nanci Griffith on the Chieftains Bells of Dublin CD at the Leo home in Iowa City. Perhaps while rocking baby Noah. That's how I remember it anyway. Noah and Nanci and me and the Chieftains. Rocking chair, piney scent and Christmas lights. Bells of Dublin became essential Christmas Eve listening for me there and then. Ricki Lee Jones on the way home from Midnight Mass -- O Holy Night -- strange how traditions set themselves -- it's not Christmas without that.
Griffith sings the Wexford Carol, I think.
Later, I became the huge fan due to If These Walls Could Speak on the Red Hot + Country CD. Boy that's a fine song. On a fun CD. Used to listen to it while doing track time at the U of I gym. Radney Foster's on it. So is Dolly Parton. Among many many others. Like Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash singing Forever Young. Don't miss the This TB's Whippin' Me song. Sure it's a metaphor, but remember, the Red Hot + is a fund raising series of CDs. Most of 'em fun and good. But that CD is all about If These Walls Could Speak for me.
Don't know who you'll think of when you don the headphones and listen, but you oughtta listen, and I'd like to know if you can listen without crying. I never can/could.
ManlyMan tears only, of course.
Like I say, one thing leading to 'nother.


And I'm getting maudlin here, now, listening to this beautiful song -- and I'm not even drinking.
Time to run Nashie. C'mon boydog, let's go. Cryin' time's over.
And you? You don't have to watch this. Either one. But I will. It's okay, too, just to listen. But there's a beauty to her, to Miss Griffith's face and bearing, a beauty that's worth seeing.
Ladies and Gentlemen: Miss Nanci Griffith.