This past Wednesday I wrote my first blog post in months. I titled it Back in the saddle. Ever since then I haven’t been able to get Gene Autry’s song, Back in the saddle again, out of my head. The old cowboy song was first released in 1939 and was later used as the name of Autry’s autobiography.
If it’s not ringing a bell yet, it was also on the Sleepless in Seattle soundtrack in 1993. You know, the scene where Tom Hanks gets the courage to call up a woman after losing his wife. He pumps himself up with a few shoulder stretches before flipping through his Rolodex and making the call on his push button rotary phone.
Here are the first two verses (Autry, 1939):
I’m back in the saddle again
Out where a friend is a friend
Where the longhorn cattle feed
On the lowly jimsonweed
Back in the saddle again
Ridin’ the range once more
Totin’ my old .44
Where you sleep out every night
And the only law is right
Back in the saddle again
If I could change it up a little to what is in my 2015 mind, it would go something like this:
I’m back in the saddle again Out where a friend is a friend Where the flowing ideas feed Back in the saddle again
Ridin’ the energy once more Totin’ my journals galore Where you sleep out every night And the only law is right Back in the saddle again
The point is, although I’m not totin’ my old .44, I can relate to Autry on a different level. My journals are my weapons (my safety net), and it’s time to pull them out of the gun cabinet (my mind). See? Isn’t this fun?
Oh the power of word play.
This past week has been pretty wild. From writing again to rallying some friends to help along the way to having some really great conversations with friends and to understanding the depths of love of I have for my entire family, inspiration is everywhere to say the least.
Topics galore are within and around me. I read a really good article in the Washington Post about my generation recently. In short, the article discussed how my generation is the last to remember a pre-computer and pre-cell phone world, yet the first to parent a generation who will know nothing else. A Rolodex? “What the hell is that?” they will say. Rotary phone? Huh?
I also have some thoughts about a very real, and now outspoken, topic of my generation: Bullying. Or gas-lighting, which is an older term for a form of mental abuse. Maybe Gene Autry would know this word. Neither here no there, I believe the two words are somewhat interchangeable of a past and present world.
There are also silly and light-hearted stories floating around and dashing through my thoughts. Like the beautiful mess that was Jan and I trying to shovel our driveway and sidewalk after dinner on Wednesday evening. Jan wanted to go out with Lance. Lance didn’t want to go out. I went out. Vivian wanted out. Lance wanted out. Vivian started to cry. Lance came out. Vivian wanted in. Lance got snow in his eyes. Vivian went in. Vivian wanted back out. Vivian wanted in. I yelled at Jan for letting Vivian out a second time. He defended his decision to let her out. I wanted in. Lance wanted to stay out. Jan went out.
At the end of a disastrous night of bundling, unbundling, and puddles of melted snow in our entry way, the driveway and sidewalk got shoveled and both kids fell asleep quickly. Jan and I made up and tried to have a good laugh about the whole debacle.
The best respite? Our generous neighbor used his snow blower all over the neighborhood, including our driveway, this morning after more snow last night. He must have known (or heard yelling and crying) that the former-Virginians across the way needed some serious help.
Snow aside, all I know is, I’m back in the saddle again.
Fasten your seat belts and silence your cell phones. Or umm, hold onto your harness and trust your horse, because this Banter Lady is ready to rumble.
Oh geez… now I am channeling Michael Buffer ring side.
(Which has absolutely nothing to do with anything else I have written so far tonight).
Good night, Ladies and Gentlemen.