Lucky

I took a friend early this morning to outpatient surgery. That was enough to remind me that on a gorgeous day in May I am lucky to be here, and alive.

Later this afternoon, the plumbing in my home was making alien noises—blurps and gurgles. Turns out a root in the yard had blocked the main line. Once again, a surgery of sorts and the bill did not kill.  And for the second time I felt gratitude and was reminded of my luck.

This Evening I Stood within the wooden walls of the Cash-Carter Cabin where I heard a band that I’m peripherally acquainted with called Talking Like June. They were solid as a rock, fronted by and an amazing woman with pipes. Part blue-eyed soul, part neo country; they performed a few at the intimate listening party for their upcoming album. I enjoyed the music and being in the company of a mix of artists and music biz folks. My agent had invited me and I couldn’t believe I was standing in the pine cabin that Johnny Cash had used for his fishing and hunting hangout. I touched the old piano that his hands had loved. I got a chill up my spine. For all that I don’t have, I have so much.

I moved to East Nashville 14 years ago this summer, I had a new album with me entitled Blue Souvenirs that I had just recorded and mixed in Boston. To make a long story short, the reason I was able to make this album was a straight out gift.  On my last night living in Seattle (where I had run away to quit music), I played in a smoky dive bar with my band. At the end of the night, a fan of mine asked me to sit down with her for a moment. She had a strange glow in her eyes. She told me to hold on tight, as she pulled out her checkbook and wrote me a check for ten thousand dollars. She had been given a huge settlement from her job, and she thought I, as an artist, could put the money to good use. And that was that. 

So many other strokes of luck have come my way in the past 14 years. There have also been some hard times, and some barely “hanging on” times. But I did, and I do, and I’ve now made five albums here in Nashville. I have songs that great artists I respect have put on their albums, and hundreds that I’ve co-written. Over the years, more and more of them turn up on albums that people will listen to while they drive in their cars, cook dinner, or what have you. I have a wonderful bunch of friends who get me, and that’s not always easy. I have love, and a home by the railroad track. As I write this I’m feeling luckier and luckier!

I have a song about this LUCK that I often end live acoustic shows with. Sometimes when I write a song, it feels as though I set up the future. I think about that when I write dark songs… but they can’t be stopped.  This particular tune is a hidden track on my Black Doves album and declares me lucky; so, therefore I am, within reason. I’m still waiting for that one big gong in this crazy trip of musical passion otherwise known as a “career”. Meanwhile, I’m gonna mow the lawn, and stop and smell the roses.