Today has not been a good day for technology. I've been at this for about three and a half hours now, struggling with connections that don't want to connect, disappearing audio, and a host of other gremlins. My astrology-knowledgeable friends tell me to blame Mercury being in retrograde. Whatever is to blame, it's been frustrating.
That said...today's Sunday Sounds is a bit of a departure. I recorded this song for my Aunt Louise and my cousins when my Uncle Jim died several years ago. It was a favorite of his. When I asked her how I could help, she said, "Can you sing Danny Boy?" Well, by golly, that I could do. So I did, recording it and sending it along with my love. The arrangement differs a bit from the traditional, and that's Jimmy Daughtery, a friend I've actually not seen or heard from in a long time (must remedy that!), on guitar. Since then the song has played for a few friends and family and at dear Uncle Jim's memorial service, but it's otherwise unshared.
I hope sharing this song comes across less as an act of narcissism and more as the act of courage that it is. In words taken from last week's Sunday Sounds, "Someone I am is waiting for my courage..." Maybe I'm tired waiting. :)
To courage, my friends...and to you, with gratitude, on this Sunday. Enjoy.
Photo Credits:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/xfp/2908564521/sizes/o/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/xfp/3056179258/sizes/o/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/eirasi/9194631/sizes/o/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/wildpianist/243221490/sizes/o/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/dean_forbes/312927070/sizes/l/
Danny Boy
words Frederick Weatherly and music traditional
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come you back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'tis I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.
And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
I simply sleep in peace until you come to me
Why? Why not?
-
These are Timothy Leary's last words. I'm not positive, because even though
he died live-streaming, the inter-webs were so slow in the early 90s that
it wa...
2 years ago