The song “Telegraph Road” by Dire Straits slipped by me somehow in the ’80s. It didn’t come ’round again until a few years ago, when an old friend and I were discussing our admiration of Mark Knopfler, trading favorite songs and guitar licks. He brought up “Telegraph Road” and suggested that I spend time with it.
And so I did.
My friend left this world several months later. I think of him every time I hear the song.
Despite the clickbait title of the live-performance video I’ve included below — AMAZING SOLO!! — it’s so much more than that. Watch and listen.
From a culture that thrives on lists of “best” guitar solos, on rankings of songs and songwriters and vocals and other individual aspects of music, Knopfler stands apart as a master. Referring to the man as a “guitarist” borders on insult — he owns every part of the music he makes.
Mastery. That’s why I’d rather fill my ears with Mark Knopfler’s music than anything else in the rock genre.
His genius gave birth to my favorite love song (“Romeo and Juliet”), my favorite war song (“Brothers in Arms”) and my favorite song about life on tour (“All the Roadrunning”). Yes, his guitar work is without equal, but that’s beside the point.
As my late friend encouraged me, so I urge you — invest time in “Telegraph Road.” I promise you won’t regret it.
But just believe in me, baby,
Mark Knopfler, “Telegraph Road”
and I’ll take you away
From out of this darkness
and into the day
From these rivers of headlights,
these rivers of rain
From the anger that lives
on the streets with these names
‘Cause I’ve run every red light
on memory lane
I’ve seen desperation
explode into flames
And I don’t want to see it again
The surprisingly prolific woodland sunflowers (Helianthus divaricatus) next to the driveway may have run their course for the season. Either that or they don’t like dry weather.
It’s a perennial, which means that they should come back in the same spot next year. I look forward to that.
I noticed the other day, however, that greenbrier vines had begun to climb the clump of woodland sunflowers. If I didn’t do something about it, the insidious Smilax could strangle next year’s floral display.
I’m not one to manicure The Mountain, but I made an exception for these wild sunflowers. Yesterday morning I aggressively cut away the thorny greenbrier vines.
I hope you’re not under the impression, by the way, that I’ve morphed into some tree-hugging Nature Boy. I simply love my life in the woods and the world that surrounds me, and I’m sharing that love with you.
Rustic living, done right and done well, has a way of toughening a person, both in body and in spirit. Any suspicion that I’ve gone soft is unwarranted.
My friends, I wish you could see what this dog is becoming.
Smudge continues to evolve into the Heeler she was born to be. The process began six months ago, endured a setback that I can pinpoint but can’t fully explain, and then accelerated in mid-June (albeit for the saddest of reasons).
She brings joy to my life that’s hard to describe and impossible to measure. The bond between us grows stronger every day.
I came in from a couple of hours working outside the other morning and sat down at the kitchen table. Immediately and without warning, she leaped up into my lap and loved on me. That was a first.
I may not be able to offer Miss Smudge, relentless herding dog that she is, the perfect life. But she gets the best I can give her. As happy as she is these days, it looks like that’s enough.
I miss my girl Scout terribly. Smudge often shows that she feels the absence, too. She lost her mentor, and I lost the best friend I’ve ever had. We carry on, though, knowing that’s the only way we have to honor what she brought to our lives.
Here’s a three-part graphic overview of conditions on The Mountain.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable