Coming home

It's not easy to experience the confusing emotions of sacrifice, joy and relief in the same moment. But that's exactly what videos like this make me feel.

I go down a lot of rabbit holes on YouTube—Springsteen, Taylor Swift (yes I'm a Swiftie), standup comedians, German Shepherd videos, versions of Stand By Me and Tracks of My Tears—but the ones that affect me to the core are of soldiers returning from overseas, surprising their families and relatives.

These joyful, tearful reunions remind me of the sacrifice, real sacrifice, our soldiers and their families make everyday. Even during an awful period of time when a bone-spur addled, dementia-ridden, brainless, spineless, morally and financially bankrupt, rapist, convicted felon and overall cowardly piece of shit who thought of them (and still does) as "suckers" and "losers" was elected for reasons I'll never understand.

Anyway, the minute these families realize what's happening, you can see and practically feel the fear and uncertainty lift from them as they run to hug their loved ones who've done the one thing they hoped and prayed for: they came home.

They fight wars they didn't start. They're at the whims of politicians who have no idea what it means to sacrifice or defend honor. And they go back time and time again because it's their duty. It makes me realize I need to stop complaining about tough days at the office.

It doesn't matter what side of the aisle you're on, or what color your state is. If you have a beating heart, you can't help but be moved by videos like this.

God bless all our soldiers.

And just for the record, I'm not crying. You're crying.

The royal treatment

I said I wasn't going to do it, but I did it anyway. I watched the royal wedding of Harry and Meghan. And my macho self-esteem isn't afraid to admit it: I was completely swept away.

I laughed, I cried, I wanted that 1950 Rolls Royce Phantom IV.

I don't think I realized until I was viewing the ceremony how desperately I needed to see something positive and affirming, something that felt like a beginning and not the end. It was a long overdue (since January 20, 2017) counterpoint to the scandals, lies, shootings and injustices we're all inundated with on a daily basis.

There was something reassuring about British traditions that aren't being abandoned for their own sake, or to spite someone out of baseless prejudices. Traditions that've endured, despite the test of time, the horrors of war and the microscope of the occasional royal scandal.

The fact it was a biracial wedding, with a black, London-based gospel choir singing Stand By Me, and a black, Chicago bishop—Michael Curry—whose fiery and passionate sermon about the redemptive power of love made it one for the history books. Set against the stuffy yet tolerant British audience, reminded that diversity is something joyous to be embraced. Not for its own sake, but for the results it elicits.

The decency and rightness of it all. A country united and happy for them. Leadership that inspires love and admiration, even when there's strong political disagreement. A stark contrast to the hatred and divisiveness being peddled as the new normal here.

If you know anything about me, and really, you should know something about me by now, you know I usually think of weddings as a waste of a perfectly good Saturday.

But it sure was nice to feel that good and hopeful, at least for one day.

Hearing it differently

I've always been a big fan of Ben E. King's Stand By Me (if you recall, and I believe you should have perfect recall of every post I write, I posted an article with several versions of the song here). To me, it's not just one of the great vocals of all time, but also one of the great songs of all time in its purity and simplicity.

Like everything else in life, what it means and who it's being sung to are open to interpretation. Over the years when I've heard it, I've often thought it was a song about lovers and loyalty, staying with each other no matter what.

But today, I have a different take on it.

Here's my truth: it's getting harder and harder to maintain a sense of humor when our country is being dismantled by a mentally unstable, billionaire (?) dictator and the neo-Nazi pulling his strings behind the curtain. I wake up with a sick sense of dread every day, convinced it can't be happening, yet slapped in the face by the reality of the situation with every newscast and social media post about politics.

I know I'm not the only one. There are at least seventy million in this boat with me.

Not to sound preachy (although it may be too late for that), smug or sanctimonious, but in this stark, stripped-down version of Stand By Me sung by Tracy Chapman—which I left out of my original post about the song—I hear something different. In this version, in this time, in this country, it feels like the voices of democracy, decency, morality, kindness, humanity and all things good crying out for us not to abandon them. Is hearing verses about the sky falling and mountains crumbling so far fetched in a time when an egotistical, ignorant, morally and intellectually bankrupt liar has control of the nuclear arsenal? Is it?

This particular version, to me, is everything good about America crying out, asking us to save her and be there for her.

I plan on doing that every second this narcissistic sociopath manages to stay in office.

Again, I know I'm not the only one.

Big Yellow Taxi

As you know, every once in a while I get swept away in the music, swaying to the rhythm, tapping my toes and singing along to a song that both transports me to another place and is transformational in its very essence.

Nah, I'm just funnin' ya. I do this when I can't think of something to write.

So, like The Wind, Tracks Of My Tears, Walk Away Renee, Stand By Me and Secret Heart before it, Big Yellow Taxi joins this elite group as today's compare and contrast exercise.

First is the Counting Crows performing a cover version. Always difficult to do a cover of a song that was so big, but I think they acquit themselves admirably.

Then of course, the Joni Mitchell version. As the songwriter, Joni has the advantage coming into the game, but we'll see whether her vocal acrobatics can hold up for the long run. We'll be back after the break.

Oh, sorry. Still thinking about Super Bowl.

The Wind

A few times on here, I've compared and contrasted different artists doing the same song. I did it for Secret Heart, Stand By Me and not that long ago, Tracks Of My Tears.

But I don't think I've ever contrasted an artist against himself (On Tracks Of My Tears, I counted the Smokey Robinson & The Miracles performance as a separate entity from Smokey Robinson singing solo).

As you could have guessed from my post about break-ups, I'm a Cat Stevens fan. I am now, and I was back then.

It's interesting to me that for so long, his religious conversion overshadowed his music. I guess it was to be expected given the political climate, and the fact that he walked away from his former success for so long. But somewhere along the way, he decided to come back to music and performing.

It's a very good thing.

And while age has slowed the songs down a bit, it's done nothing to make them any less heartfelt.

It's also interesting to note that while he's gotten visibly older over the years, I haven't changed at all. At least that's what I like to tell myself (Note to self: get rid of all the mirrors).

So, please to enjoy The Wind as sung by Cat Stevens then. And Yusuf Islam now.