investing wisely

Soon after Ginger and I moved to Boston, we were walking in the Cambridgeside Galleria one evening when we were stopped by a local news reporter who said he was doing a story on married couples and money. He asked us who handled the finances in our relationship and Ginger said, “I do” at the same time I said, “She does.” Then I went on to say a sentence that got us on television: “If it were up to me, I’d invest everything in CDs – and I mean the kind you listen to, not the kind they keep at the bank.”

Over the course of my life, I’ve invested heavily in music. One of the joys of iTunes is I can dump those CDs into my computer and then sell the used CDs at Newbury Comics to create a little spending money for some of the new music I want. In other words, I can still invest in CDs without it costing us too much. I will admit parting with the discs doesn’t come easy, but it’s a lesson I need to learn. Some of the literature about depression says those of us who live with it tend to be collectors. We find comfort in surrounding ourselves with stuff, not so much in the acquisitional sense as – I think – for the sense of belonging that comes with having something familiar and tangible to hold on to.

The combination of my depressive condition and the oppressive heat sent me to the store with about a dozen used CDs to swap for Something New. I came home with two new discs I’ve been hoping for: Separate Ways by Teddy Thompson and American V: A Hundred Highways by Johnny Cash. I heard the Thompson record on a listening station at Barnes & Noble the other day and was knocked out; the Cash disc is a posthumous collection of his last recordings, including a cover of Gordon Lightfoot’s “If You Could Read My Mind.” It’s a whole new song.

I was driving Ginger’s Jeep Wrangler, whose CD player has a mind of its own and shuffles the order of the songs at will. When I put in the Thompson CD, the first song that played was “I Should Get Up”:

depression looms
I’m such a miserable fool
I stay in bed
I don’t wanna go to school
but I see the sun is beating down
no excuses from the clouds
I should get up
I should go out
I’m sure there’s something
I can’t do without
I should get up
I should get up
I should get up

No wonder I was drawn to his record. I listened to the song two or three times on the drive back to the house and then I put in Johnny Cash. The surprise I found here was Hugh Moffatt’s song “Rose of My Heart.” I sang along the rest of the way home, waiting for the chance to play if for Ginger.

we’re the best partners this world’s ever seen
together as close as can be
sometimes it’s hard to find time in between
to tell you what you are to me.

you are the rose of my heart
you are the love of my life
a flower not fading nor falling apart
if you’re tired, rest your head on my arm
rose of my heart

when sorrow holds you in her arms of clay,
it’s rain drops that fall from your eyes.
your smile’s like the sun
come to earth for a day,
you brighten my blackest of skies.

you are the rose of my heart
you are the love of my life
a flower not fading nor falling apart
if you’re cold, let my love make you warm
rose of my heart

so hard times or easy times, what do I care
there’s nothing I’d change if I could
the tears and the laughter are things that we share
your hand in mine makes all times good

you are the rose of my heart
you are the love of my life
a flower not fading nor falling apart
you’re my harbor in life’s restless storm
rose of my heart.

One of the CDs living in our player this week is Kate Campbell’s very excellent Monuments. The song that has hung in my head from that record is “The Way Home.” The simple claim, beautifully sung without irony, speaks deeply to me.

if you’re ever in the richmond jail
with no one around to go your bail
if you’ve lost your way it might help to know
Jesus is the way home

if you’re trying to put that whiskey down
and you realize you’re losing ground
you don’t have to walk that road alone
Jesus is the way home

you don’t have to worry where you’re at
or why you’re there he knows all that
you just let the good book be your map
Jesus is the way home

if you think nobody understands
and life’s not going like you planned
there’s a friend who’ll show you how to go
Jesus is the way home

there’s a garden down in alabam’
not too far south of birmingham
painted signs and crosses by the road
one says Jesus is the way home

for the bible tells me so
Jesus is the way home

These are the words and music getting me through these days. Maybe my investments in CDs are paying off after all.

Peace,
Milton