What A Wonderful World
With my Brown-Eyed Girl (Non-fiction) (Based on a Prompt)
This story is based on a prompt from MJ Polk’s publication, Stories from the Jukebox. This week’s song prompt is What a Wonderful World, recorded by Louis Armstrong in 1967.
I posted Elixir back on June, 16, which ended with this paragraph:
Just yesterday, I was sitting on the porch looking out at the world while wondering and pondering where my life was headed and where my wife happened to be, until I glanced up to see her streaming down the street on her bicycle, with her headphones in and her long blonde hair floating on the breeze, and I thought to myself…
What a Wonderful World.
When I realized this week’s prompt is my all-time favorite song, I thought back to this paragraph about my wife and how she makes me feel.
I have to admit, life has been a little tough lately.
A lot of bad things happening to a lot of people close to me.
I’m fully aware that’s how it works as we grow older, but the onslaught can be vicious when the bad news comes in relentless pounding waves.
At times, it can be difficult to shake off the worrisome dew of the mourning rain.
When times get tough, I try to keep pace by remembering the lessons I learned during a rough stretch of my own about fifteen years ago.
A string of events sent me straight into a tailspin.
Unsettling things stacking up all neat and tidy, making a mess of the place.
These lines in Making the Pain Last, a song by Bob Schneider, lay out where my head was at the time.
I watched the leaves turn green
and then brown
Sat in my living room
I let the world spin me around
I tried to make the pain last
As long as I could
I watched the sky turn black
And then blue
And then black
And then blue
It made me think of you
In a daze.
A brutal haze.
While the world moved on around me.
The nights and the days ran together in one never-ending loop.
Like a really bad song stuck on repeat
I couldn’t find what I needed to get up off the mat.
My wife was the hero I needed during that period.
I named that story Elixir, because I truly believe music has magical powers.
It can help and it can heal.
If you don’t believe it, go check out Marc Barnacle’s Substack, and see what he and his organization have been up to. You will absolutely be blown away.
Marc uses music to help people with disabilities, dementia and mental health issues.
His charity T.I.M.E., (Together in Musical Expression) is based on the belief that music is for everyone.
Who could argue with that?
I’ve also learned that Gratitude is an elixir.
Especially in sad times.
As you grow older, it becomes imperative to be grateful.
Nothing can cure all ills, but gratitude can get you back on the road to recovery
Gratitude is where the joy hangs out. If you are looking for joy, gratitude is where you’ll find it.
MJ couldn’t have picked a better week to showcase What A Wonderful World.
Most people celebrating Thanksgiving have spent the past week thinking about the things they are thankful for.
As for me, I am thankful for so many things.
Sunsets, smiles, stories, music, art and nature.
Kind, caring and sympathetic people, like my son.
Babies and puppies, like my good boy, Dudley.
The food we eat, the air we breathe and, my wife Jodie.
That last one is the main reason I’m here.
Without her, in my thinking, there’s no me.
The way I see it. The way I believe it.
She’s my rock and my roll.
She’s helped me through so many difficult times, including the one mentioned above.
She has consistently done that by being who she is, every single day.
Wherever she’s at, she’s present, even when I’m absent.
She shows me the way by showing me the way.
I, like a lot of folks, feel things very deeply.
My life has been a bit of a rollercoaster.
Really high ‘highs’, followed by really low ‘lows.’
Some people are monotone, even keeled.
That’s, not me.
I’m not complaining, because I couldn’t do the Even-Steven if I wanted to.
I just don’t have it in me.
I will endure those deep ruts to get to the top of the mountain, every single time.
I like the feel from up there.
The payoff, to me, is worth it.
What a Wonderful World is a song that preaches gratitude and thankfulness.
For the trees of green and red roses too
For the skies of blue and the clouds of white
For the rainbows in the sky
And on the faces of people going by
My wife gets that.
She has tamed my temper and slowed my roll, on too many occasions.
She’s pumped me up and she’s held my feet to the fire.
She consistently shows me how wonderful my world is even when I have a hard time seeing it.
She just seems to come through in the clutch, when the chips are down, and when the rubber meets the road.
I will give you one funny, albeit wild, example of the rubber meeting the road.
On a long ago family trip when our son was just a wee chap, we were driving along on a desolate highway with evening fast approaching.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a car full of young guys with mischief on their minds, pulled up beside our car to play high-speed games.
There were very few cars on the road and the situation quickly turned dangerous, with them riding our bumper and then jumping in front of us to slam on their brakes, again and again.
Flummoxed by the behavior and not wanting to pull over in the middle of nowhere, I was trying furiously to come up with a plan when I took a quick glance over at my mirror.
What I saw, stunned me.
A thick, white, creamy, substance flying through the air and landing smack dab on the instigator’s front windshield.
Wipers were activated, which only smudged the mess into an opaque mass of confusion, as they pulled over, screeching to a halt on the side of the road.
I turned to Jodie to tell her what I had just witnessed, and noticed an empty baby bottle in her hand and a curious look on her face.
“What?”
“You didn’t?”
She flashed a sheepish grin.
“I couldn’t see if it hit them”
“Oh, it hit them. That was the most picture-perfect case of high-speed, formula-emptying in the history of highways.”
I wanted to pull over and kiss her crazy lips, but not until I put a little distance between us and the maniacal milk duds, so we drove on.
We were safe, although my son seemed a little agitated that his dinner had been used as road-rage weaponry.
Jodie has a wicked sense of humor.
Recently, during an evening that had gotten completely out of hand, (in a good way, if you know what I mean) I said to her,
“Look, dude, we need to chill. The way we’re acting, the cops are gonna show up.”
Jodie, (who does play a little bass) never missed a beat, replying “Well, at this point… I’d be disappointed if they didn’t.”
The sentiment of Louis’ beautiful song rings true for all of us.
Even my family, as…
I have watched my baby cry
I have watched him grow.
And, yes, he learned much more than I’ll ever know.
I appreciate this prompt, MJ.
Today, instead of hauling out a load of regrets, I’m bringing in the gratitude.
I’m thankful for this song.
I’m thankful for the opportunity to write out my thoughts.
And, even more thankful that anyone would take the time to read them.
So, today, Substack reader, I am thankful for you.
And, I’m thankful for my lovely wife.
Who took a brutish lout and made a man out of him.
Who gives me advice, just by living her life.
Last night, at an Allen Stone concert in Atlanta, I watched her dancing and singing in the middle of a huge crowd, and I saw the exact same spirit and joie de vivre that tamed my wild heart over 38 years ago.
What a wonderful world, indeed.
“You can do it like it’s a great weight on you or you can do it like it’s part of the dance.” - Ram Dass
At times, Jodie says things to me that are deep and insightful. She also tells me things that are simple enough to dent my thick skull.
She told me once, “Just let that shit go!”
And, together, we live, happily ever after.
Thank you for introducing Jodie! Love to meet her - when our paths cross next!
Beautiful Marty.