Joni Mitchell - The Fiddle and the Drum

The Fiddle and the Drum

Joni Mitchell

And so once again
My dear Johnny my dear friend
And so once again you are fightin' us all
And when I ask you why
You raise your sticks and cry, and I fall
Oh, my friend
How did you come
To trade the fiddle for the drum

You say I have turned
Like the enemies you've earned
But I can remember
All the good things you are
And so I ask you please
Can I help you find the peace and the star
Oh, my friend
What time is this
To trade the handshake for the fist

And so once again
Oh, America my friend
And so once again
You are fighting us all
And when we ask you why
You raise your sticks and cry and we fall
Oh, my friend
How did you come
To trade the fiddle for the drum

You say we have turned
Like the enemies you've earned
But we can remember
All the good things you are
And so we ask you please
Can we help you find the peace and the star
Oh my friend
We have all come
To fear the beating of your drum

On Canada Day: we see thee rise

It's not that I have nothing to say. Quite the opposite. I have too much to say, and have learned to censor myself. It's a sad thing, but that's how it is. This blog has devolved into something less meaningful for me, though I still keep it going for my own amusement. Whatever desperately serious thoughts I have, I keep to myself.

There is a reason for this. I remember a wholesale bailing of followers after I posted something that went straight to the core of my fears. It did not go well, and I took it down soon, because I realized I can't do that sort of thing here. I also don't address my mental health issues - much - except peripherally, since, as the old song says, "oops, there goes another rubber tree plant."

Not that I am making fun. Far from it. I know people garner huge followings by revealing their most raw, innermost selves, their secrets. But there is schadenfreude involved, as there is with me, the sense of "well, that's too bad for her, but I'm glad it's not me". Do I insult my potential readers when I say that?

I wept when I played this video, which I found last year and forgot to save. So I had to hunt for it again. The national anthem has never made me weep before. I see desperate daily news items of escalating violence, and wonder how "strong and free" we really are. But I have to say, at one and the same time, I am proud, fiercely proud of this self-deprecating, well-intentioned, blundering, dignified, crazy, brilliant country. We're like the little brother who gets sand kicked in his face. Do we complain? Yes, we do, daily. But ask an immigrant. On every Canada Day, people who have just become Canadian citizens comment to media on what this means to them. And it is everything. It is freedom, freedom to "be". I hate to say "but it's worse everywhere else", but - guess what - it's worse everywhere else.

You're not going to believe this, and I jinx it as I say it, but I have found a kind of happiness, an intense joy and pleasure in the simplest of things: walking around Como Lake with Bill, finding a rare troll doll and having it come in the mail like it's Christmas Day, having a magnificent red-winged blackbird eat out of my hand. And even capturing and posting the wonder of it on YouTube, where I never realized until recently that I have some followers. My enthusiasms have not died, but neither have my fears, and my haunted past has never haunted me more. Everyone keeps telling me it wasn't my fault. I want to speak of these things, in fact I ache for it, but I know it isn't wise.

I also know you can hold two opposing emotions at the same time. Two opposing personalities, more like. I have learned the reality of malignant narcissism in my family of origin, and PTSD in my own core, but for the most part I keep these things to myself. At least there's a name for these things now. In the past, it was just called "life". 

And since some my my small band of readers are from other places, here are the words to Canada's national anthem. MY Canada.

O Canada!

Our home and native land

True patriot love

In all of us command

With glowing hearts

We see thee rise

The True North, strong and free

From far and wide

O Canada

We stand on guard for thee

God keep our land

Glorious and free

O Canada we stand on guard for thee! 

O Canada we stand on guard for thee!

Francaise

O Canada!

Terre de nos aïeux

Ton front est ceint

De fleurons glorieux

Car ton bras

Sait porter l'épée

Il sait porter la croix

Ton histoire

Est une épopée

Des plus brillants exploits

Et ta valeur

De foi trempée

Protégera nos foyers et nos droits

Protégera nos foyers et nos droits

Gumby's little sister: it's MINGA!