On The Radio

"And I wouldn't trade a tree;

For the way I feel about you in the morning:

Anyhow, I love you."

Guy Clark, 'Anyhow, I Love You'

Guy Clark died before I moved to Austin. That sounds odd - like I was waiting for him to pass before I could head on over. No. That's obviously not what I mean. I meant, that I never got to live in Austin at the same time as him.

There is something to walking the same streets, at the same time, as the great American poets. It makes you feel recycled. Like a soul tracing footsteps a second time.

And the thing about it is, Clark didn't really spend that much time living in Austin. He moved out to Nashville in the 70's and lived there till the end of his days. But, he was always a Texan and his music was always of Texas. The languid delivery; the sparse gaps in the imagery; the certainty of the moment and the clarity of a heavy past - all those things are particularly Texan.

Because, at their core, Texans are always certain. Certain of what has been; certain of what will come; and certain of what it is right now.  And yes, those long hot Austin days do wear down the volume and speed of their delivery - but nothing shakes that certainty. Not even when they are clearly wrong.

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Forget You

I never thought of her as brave. Others did, though. They believed in her pain. But it was all I ever heard her talk about. Something about that didn't seem right to me.

The bravest people I know, talk about their own pain. But they also talk about the pain they've caused others. And the way she would tell it, she was only ever on the recieving end.

I was consulting to a small restaurant group in London. They had a cocktail bar down a lane-way in Old Soho. The sorta place that would open at 6pm, but not get interesting till after 11. She'd come in most every night on her way home to her apartment on Dean St. and pull up a seat up at that corner where the bar met the wall. She'd order a bowl of fries, a small salad and throw back a couple of Vespers -  on the rocks, with a lemon peel garnish. Always the same order.