When I was a small boy, my family would take Sunday drives, and we would inevitably listen to either Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits or the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack on our little treks around town. If I had a choice, I always picked Simon and Garfunkel. I didn’t know what folk music was. I didn’t understand the melodies or even the simplicity of two-part harmony and an acoustic guitar. I just liked the songs.
I was listening to Simon and Garfunkel’s Old Friends Live On Stage on Spotify this week, and I was struck by how the lyrics of these songs I grew up with have started to resonate with me at such a late date. Maybe I needed to do a bit of living myself first, or have a few heartbreaking moments, for the tumblers to click. Case in point, “Leaves That Are Green” has this gem:
Once my heart was filled with the love of a girl I held her close, but she faded in the night Like a poem I meant to write And the leaves that are green turned to brown And they wither with the wind And they crumble in your hand
I hadn’t heard that particular song before, but the lyrics had so much meaning for me personally. Of course, even though I’ve been happily married for years, I immediately thought of past girlfriends. “I Am a Rock,” tells the story better:
I have my books And my poetry to protect me I am shielded in my armor Hiding in my room Safe within my womb I touch no one and no one touches me. I am a rock I am an island And a rock feels no pain And an island never cries.
I was savvy enough in my younger days to get the analogy there. Moreover, I was surprised that the lyrics for “American Tune” affected me as strongly as they did when I first heard it, long ago, through my headphones. It starts with:
Many’s the time I’ve been mistaken And many times confused Yes, and I’ve often felt forsaken And certainly misused
It’s such a lovely melody, and the song flows when Art Garfunkel sings it. I’m smart enough to see the universal themes in the music and the lyrics, but good writing has the strength to mean the same thing and several things to a wide audience. I have no idea how you view the lyrics, but to me, they speak to my past relationships, choices, and events.
In my past, I’ve had good things just out of reach, so I was smiling at the familiar “Slip Slidin’ Away” telling me:
You know the nearer your destination The more you’re slip slidin’ away
There’s more if I look deep enough. More to make me happy or sad, wistful or hopeful. I’m sure I could have done the same thing with Lennon/McCartney songs. However, today it was a Paul Simon kind of mood, and it’s late in the evening, and the music’s seeping through.
Be seeing you.
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There's a new essay every Saturday, and shorter notes during the week. If you want another one now, start here. Or I can send it Sunday morning along with whatever piled up. Same writing, less remembering.
Porch light's on either way.