But, What? We Don’t Have Them Oars.
Don’t copycat your own greatest hits.
I suppose it’s a life lesson for the rest of us non-musicians as well. No one likes the bore who merely relives their glory days from the past. A fair point to be sure, but what about nostalgia? What about warm memories? What about the feeling of playing that one song — that one song! – that always puts a smile on your face and takes you right back to a certain place in time?
Some long underwear triggered a trip down memory lane today. Even though it’s still hot enough in Texas to sport tank-tops & flip-flops, I am pulling out fleece jackets and heavy gloves for a trip to Montana next week. Last time I donned all this gear was in June, for my Smith River Float/Missouri trip. I have to admit, it’s hard not to look over my shoulder and smile at that adventure.
It’s only been a few months, but it already seems like ages ago! We had such a big time on that trip. Amazing how lounging around a campfire defies life phases and stages in order to melt away the world and bring everyone together. I mean is there anything more fun than a campfire and a guitar? Every night we would sing the same set of songs over and over, and every night we were delighted as if it were the first time we’d ever heard them.
Eventually, however, our little cover band of merrymakers decided we had to put our own spin on these venerable tunes. Around the fire on our last night we each took turns singing– impromptu — a custom verse of Tom Petty’s ‘Free Fallin’. Free, tree, three, see, glee. Fallin, ballin, haulin, callin, stallin. You’d be surprised how quickly you can morph into a bonafide Comedian/Lyricist when you’re in the hotseat and there are plenty of liquor drinks to go around. We laughed so hard we hurt ourselves.
Making up inane lyrics to well known songs….well it just never seems to get old, does it?
So as a quick distraction from doing my long underwear inventory, I’ve put together a musical montage of the June Smith trip. Reliving glory days? Perhaps. It was fairly glorious. And in the past. But it sure has me fired up about autumn in Montana. Bundling up in waders and gloves and gear. Crisp cold temperatures and big streamers and warm drinks. The melody may sound familiar, but as with any fishing adventure I’m sure this trip will have its own beat, it’s own rhythm, and its own lyrical memories.
I just can’t wait to hear the soundtrack.
In the meantime, enjoy this montage. Sing along if you know the words. If not, feel free to make up your own.