Last night I watched a documentary on Woody Guthrie. It made me think of my dad, especially
when it mentioned Woody going to sea and playing guitar for his shipmates. I never knew Woody went to sea. I think my dad told me once that he was present somewhere sometime when Woody went by in a train. Maybe I made that up. He sort of reminds me of him though, but then most rebels do... Clint Eastwood, Rambo, Elvis, Superman. I don't know if Elvis and Superman fit that description, but they belong in that list. Maybe they remind me of some of his other qualities. Anyway, I may be idealizing my childhood, but I feel like I have a rich folk heritage. I feel like I'm a part of something beautiful in some small way. I love folk art and folk music and when I look back at the little cedar cabin that I grew up in with it's fireplace and porch swing, our dogs on the porch, and my daddy playing guitar and drinking coffee, I feel like I belong in a painting. My dad is gone now, but I have his guitar and it is a treasure to me. My favorite song that he played for me was Puff the Magic Dragon & sometimes I still listen to Peter, Paul, & Mary try to mimic him. I miss my dad. The other night we played monopoly and I don't know what I said, something stupid, but apparently smart at the same time and Ben gave me that same look my dad used to always give me that says,
does this kid really know what she just said? That always made me feel special, when we connected that way. My kids wondered how a game of Monopoly could make me cry. So, long story short, I love my daddy's guitar, and the music in my head, and my patchwork fantasy past, my 1970's frontporch piece of history. I miss my dad's funny raised eyebrow looks that peer into my wee little soul. I wish he was still here to tell me all about what's going wrong in the government. I'd ask him if he really watched that train pass by. I'd call him right now & ask him to brave the cold and come over for Thanksgiving and meet my family & my big dogs & we'd sit by the fireplace & drink coffee. I wonder what my kids would think. He's not entirely unlike their daddy, sort of a cross between Rambo & Superman. Ha. That's what it is- deep thinker, tuff guy, handsome, hero. Funny. I never really reconciled those four personas in my mind until now (Clint, Rambo, Elvis, Superman). I recently read a quote that said, "I write to discover what I know." So true. Glad I could apply it here. Ps. I think if my dad were here, he would read my blog. I wish he would. That would be neat.
