Today’s 50 Mile Ride on a Bike

In five minutes I will be leaving on a journey like no other I have ever taken. I will be riding the 50 mile Hill Country Ride for AIDS. I will cross that line in honor of my friends who have died because of AIDS.

My ride is here…my bike is about to be placed on the van…I must go!

Pray for me!
Love,
Sara

posted by Sara Hickman at 04:45 am
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Dali! Inspired!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pa2rwk-SlCo

Check out the time lapse Dali after you watch these three shorts…it is the best..you actually watch him paint a picture in about 30 seconds.

Ah, DA-LEE!

Thanks to Mike Cogliandro for pointing me to this link!

posted by Sara Hickman at 06:25 am
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This just in from Elaine

Elaine, whose home I visited on Vashon Island (where I also spelled IAN’S name wrong), has just sent this information:

hellebores - that’s the name of the plant on my front porch - loves
shade.

posted by Sara Hickman at 12:38 pm
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Talking with Children about the Tragedy at Virginia Tech

The following is from an amazing woman at our church and I wanted to share it with those of you who are parents, or anyone in general, trying to understand how to talk with your children, or others, about the tragedy at Virginia Tech

If we could only placate the world’s rage with a drop of poetry or love—but only the struggle and the daring heart are able to do that.
—Pablo Neruda

Talking About the Tragedy at Virginia Tech
- Paula Stiernberg, Ed. D (Director of Children & Family Ministries)

In times of tragedy, like the massacre at Virginia Tech this week, parents are often torn about how to help their children understand and cope.

Generally speaking, parents can help young children by:

Limiting media about the event. We cannot predict what will be said or shown on TV or radio. It’s best to limit their exposure at this time.

Be open to discussion if your child brings up the incident.

Use reflective listening as your first and best tool. This means that you ask your child to tell you what he thinks about what he’s heard or seen. Whatever the response, this is not the time to correct or lecture; the goal is for them to be able to safely express what they are thinking to you.

Know that your child relates everything that happens in his/her world to his/herself.

Children are focused on self; they’re supposed to be at this stage. Everything that happens to someone else could happen to him/her. (S)he is seeking your reassurance. Be even more available for hugging, lap sitting, snuggling than usual and say over and over, “The adults at home and at school know how to take care of you and keep you safe.” This reassurance will help ease her fears during this anxious time.

We don’t really know.
Don’t be afraid to answer a question with, We don’t really know. If your child asks why a person would do such a thing, you could say you don’t really know but that it does make you sad.

Try to move on.
Try to move on to another subject, but don’t close the conversation until your child appears ready. Do take the first opportunity to ease into some other topic.

Monitor your emotional response to the situation in front of your child.
Remember, children are such sponges. If you are despondent, your child will be very upset because they love you so much.

Offer to pray with your child on behalf of the families involved in the tragedy.
Everyone involved can be helped by God’s love, so when we pray for these people, we’re reminding ourselves and our children that God walks with us even in dark days such as this.

From Sara:

Keep the dialogue open and know that you are the source your child most relies upon for guidance, assurance, help, love, compassion and understanding. Even when we don’t know all the answers as parents, your availability and open presence is reassuring to a child. Or a partner. Or a neighbor. Or your own parents.

We must continue to work together as national and international communities to develop ways to communicate and support one another, to learn to grow from such tragic occurances. By talking with one another, educating one another, understanding one another’s differences (from differences in religion to cultures), and deciding as people what is healthy and appropriate behaviour and what is not…only in this way can we hope to find relief, balance, hope and strength in our human condition. There will always be conflict and strife, but it is how we are prepared for that conflict and strife that we can learn to divert, resolve or prevent such horrific consequences…through communication and growth we can learn to best serve one another and not just the self.

Love,
Sara

posted by Sara Hickman at 09:47 am
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The Rest of the Story

After Friday night’s show at the Blue Heron, a lovely art gallery/theatre setting full of artistic folks dancing to “Simply” and laughing/crying with me through story and song, I bid adieu to my lovely hosts, Janice and Matthew, packed up my bags, and was informed I needed to “gun it” if I wanted to make it to the ferry in time (thank you to the circus man, Bill or David, whichever you want to call him.)

I maneuvered the snakey roads in the dark night…whew!! I made it to the ferry just as they were loading, where I then asked several nice ladies in yellow slickers many times when to get off…it was late and it is a queasy, odd feeling to be sitting in your car on a gianormous boat that is slowly, dizzily turning and rocking on consistenet undulating waves. All I could think was I didn’t feel like going down on a ferry…the water looked really cold and how does one get out of your car and where do you run to if a ferry starts to sink? All the creaking, groaning metal, the cars rolling and slowly slamming into each other, people screaming, the confusion of night and the lonliness of black water ready to take you down. Ooh…shudder! So I called folks on the phone and had nice chats on the phone waiting to reach the shores of Seattle.

I never realized how much of my life I have spent traveling alone until a few years ago. I always have fun engaging with strangers and children and making new friends out there in the world, but…it is odd to think of how vulnerable this life is (which it is, anyway, no matter where we are… but being out here traveling a lot makes me recognize what an enormous planet this is, and perhaps it is part of aging, but I am feeling more and more humility all the time about the fact I get to exist at all!)

Drove an hour to Craig Lund’s house, got to bed around 1:00 am (3 Texas time)

Got up and ate the most delicious oatmeal made by Craig that had brown sugar, cream and blackberries. Oh, my!

Drove over to meet up with Jim Dunlap, a friend of the first degree and highest order, who introduced me to Shawn Hlookoff, and we hopped in his car to drive to the radio station. It was an NPR station at the end of their fund drive. Wish I’d been there during it…I love to help raise money! Met Ginger, the orange ball of fuzzy fur chow, and Candy, Paul George, Larry and Charles, all wonderful people. Went on the air, Shawn and I talked, I played two songs and then a children’s song (“iolana”….Jim came bouncing in with the cue cards…all good fun)

Went to lunch at the Broadway Grill, where Jim used to go with Peg of “Northern Exposure” back when Jim was the accountant on that show. It was yummy. I had a chopped salad and black bean soup, although half-way through my meal the black bean soup had no black beans because it was really brocolli-chicken soup.

Walked around and bought my family some gifts at Urban Outfitters, Shawn wasn’t feeling very good, so we popped in a drugstore and got him something for his stomach. Then we went to the performance hall so we could get set up for my children’s show, but there were about 70 people in the hall learning the Lindy. That was cool, to see such a large group of people learning dance moves.

We decided to go upstairs. The building must have been a schoolhouse in the 1800s…big red brick full of classrooms and stairs. Jim, Shawn and I settled into some tiny pre-school chairs at a mini-table bathed in afternoon light from picture windows, and played some games…Truth or Dare
(which was lame and goofy cuz no one wanted to make dares) and then a game of Jim giving us subject ideas and Shawn and I making up songs on the spot. I made up a song about a girl named Stephanie, a waitress at a diner, that my song’s narrator was in love with but couldn’t announce so because she was afraid to be gay…all over an order of onion rings (“onion rings” being my word to write a song around)

Finally, the class cleared out below, we set up for soundcheck, kids and families started arriving, we had a show. We sang, we laughed, we told stories. I had several kids, before the show, tell me they wanted to come up and join me with their favorite songs, so I made a special section in the middle of the show and brought them up, one at a time. First was Desi Rae, five year old little boy, who announced on the mic that he only got called “Desi Rae” when he was in trouble, so I asked him what he would prefer to be called. He was a little stuck on that question, so we chose a super pal name:
Lizard Wizzie. Then he sang “Cantaloupe”, much to my amazement, and charmed everyone with his sensibilities and adorableness.

Up next was Greer, and she had long, straight brown hair and a sweet smile. She wanted to do “I Like My Boots”, so we sang that on the microphone while everyone kept time clapping. That was fun, cuz I never hardly perform that song. Most of all, though, it was an honor to have kids know my songs and sing them. That blew my mind! Especially someplace so far away from Austin….

So, it was a big lovefest, lots of hugs and laughter. I gave out the coloring pages I made for the kids and shared funny stories with parents.

Then, Shawn brought in his keyboard and did a soundcheck and I followed with a soundcheck, at which I finally admitted I was getting tired and could we stop. It was about 6 by then, and we were going to run and get some dinner, got lost on our journey, found a little place to eat at 6:30 called Oliver Twist, a sort of tapas bar with American versions of fun snacks (mini-grilled cheese sandwich with cappucino tomato basil soup), ate quick, back in the car, get to the gig, Shawn goes on at 7:30 and sang his lovely pop songs with a voice that is rich and controlled and beautiful. He’s funny and nice and
we had a wonderful day pal-ing around, the three of us. I suspect the next time you hear his name, it won’t be through me but through the airwaves and on tv!

Then I played for two hours, and thank you to Shawna for the prayer in the bathroom and the homemade double chocolate macadamia nut cookies and to Michael for video taping both shows, which I never think to do…thank you to Craig Lund for bringing me up here in the first place. He saw me last summer at a house concert here in Seattle and promised to bring me back up, and he did. If he hadn’t have kept his word, I would not have had the pleasure of meeting Elaine, Pete and Shawn, and so the unfolding of life is sometimes contingent on others and their visions being followed through.

The green of Seattle makes my eyes hungry for more. It calms me, to drink in all the beauty of the trees, the hills, the mass of colorful, and unusual flowers everywhere. Craig is up now, I am on his computer, and he slept til 10. I was up at 8 am, writing letters to send home, and now he is in the kitchen, creating more of that fantabulous oatmeal, and I am thinking life is so harmonious, so exquisite, and the wonder of it all…this being here, now, imperfections in my history and heart and perfections, too, all jumbled together make me want to laugh out loud, for no reason other than wow!
What a ride.

posted by Sara Hickman at 09:49 am
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Vashon Island

Got up at 4:00 am. Got to the airport at 5:30 in Austin. Got to Seattle, in a misty, white fog, around 11:30 am

My rental car is so cool! I don’t have any idea what it is, some sort of boxy,silver Chrysler. Not a PT Cruiser, but a new version of it.
It holds my guitars, my sunglasses, and took me 15 minutes to find the seat adjuster cuz some designer got clever and put the lever on the DOOR. Finally! Thank you, whoever you were, for thinking of that innovation! No bendy over.

Rode the ferry over to Vashon Island, which I will not tell you how astounding it is because then everyone will move there so I will tell you it is covered in trash and very ugly. DO NOT GO TO VASHON ISLAND. ALERT! ALERT! Ooh, it is a nuclear dump. Even as I was riding the ferry through trash filled waters, I placed my face mask on so as not to inhale any of the deadly gasses emitting from said “island” (really, as I approach, I realized it is
thousands of years of beer cans and old pizza boxes stacked one on top of another, which is why they handed me rubber boots as I departed the ferry.)

Hung out with the sweet Elaine Summers and Pete Droge at their clean (i.e., no trash or waste, but,again, they are fortunate to not be
living on mounds of torn up textbooks and a junkyard of forgotten crud: really!) fairy land of magical mosiac animals (a stallion in the woods! sparkling bunnies in the bushes! even a four foot concrete slug covered in the colors of the rainbow…everywhere I look, mosiac wonder!) where I am treated to Elaine’s most delicious vegan salad of black beans and cilantro, onions, garlic and who knows what; I felt uber healthy the minute I took my first bite.
Which was good because through the monkey puzzle trees and the giant azalea bushes, the bright happy tulips and the towering firs, I could see
the sizzling sun beating down on the mountains of encroaching trash. DO NOT CALL A REALTOR ABOUT RELOCATING TO VASHON. BE GRATEFUL I CAN TRAVEL TO THESE HIDEOUS, UNFORTUNATE PLACES AND SUFFER ON YOUR BEHALF!

After lunch, I was given a tour of their awesome studio. Ok, you know where I’ll be headed when I save up some ka-ching! Then we sat and talked about the music industry. The sky was clear blue by then, and a pure white cat named Finnster was eyeing me from across the sofa. (Animals can live here amongst this devastating pollution! That was a relief to my troubled heart.)

We popped over to Iain Moore’s house, where he was installing wood floors in the midst of a very green, forested, moss covered utopia. Strange, it seems musicians can live on Vashon Island and they escape the evil advance of civilization’s residue. Anyhoo, we stood around in the living area and talked about things I can not repeat here because they were funny in conversation but would translate as vulgar on my blog, I am sure. (And you know I am just coming out of my vulgar stage (wha…?) and must recapture my southern charm, for mercy’s sake!) Met Iain’s very nice wife, and his son, Max, who was yelling down from upstairs and then disappeared. He had a nice mop of upside down hair as I stared up into the stairwell to say “hello”.

Ok. More later..I have to run to a radio interview and do a children’s show and then a big people’s show….so, later tonight I will conclude my review of the weekend!




posted by Sara Hickman at 08:33 am
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I Can’t Believe This is Going On! So EVERYBODY…TAKE ACTION!!!

Please read the article below to get fully incensed like I did. We all need to start speaking out on what this government is becoming and doing.
It is not the government I want my family, friends and fellow county people to be living under.
I was hoping to play at this concert, but they have switched the date from April to May 6th, so I won’t be there to perform, but I’ll be talking about it
and trying to encourage others to attend….
Sara


Benefit concert at The Nutty Brown Cafe on Sunday, May 6th
2 pm-9/10 pm
To raise funds to help support the Kambo family

Sam Kambo is an LCRA employee that was in the process of applying for US permanent resident status
when he was detained in October. (The link to the story in the Austin American Statesman is below.) He has been incarcerated since then, and it is
obviously taking an emotional and financial toll on the family. Folks are trying to raise funds to help support the family while the legal proceedings
move forward.

A number of bands will perform and there will be a silent auction to raise funds for the family.

We are looking for volunteers to help out. Feel free to have anyone contact me at 512-695-1911 if they have any questions or would like to get involved.

Thanks again,

Brian

Article:
http://www.statesman.com/search/content/news/stories/local/03/11/11kambo.html

posted by Sara Hickman at 02:04 pm
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From Wednesday to Today…Happy Easter/Passover, all!

WEDNESDAY

Flew to Dallas and performed with Kristin at the Center for Spiritual Living’s Peace Concert, a two hour performance of poets, singer/songwriters, choirs and readings, all pertaining to hope and peace. We met amazing, grace filled people, and my favorite part of the evening was the choir’s burst of energy and joy, and Cornell played an Indian wooden flute. The notes penetrated the evening, puncuated by the words of Gandhi and King, and the woodiness of the flute pierced my heart—so throaty, so sad.

Had great conversations about racism, the “n” word, and teenagers with Alva, a smart, sassy woman/mother who works with the Center. She picked us up from and delivered us to the hotel/gig/airport, all while we talked about heady issues and how blacks (from Alva’s experiences as a black woman) view the “n” word and how whites (from my and Kristin’s experieces as white women) view the “n” word, and I was only sorry that this conversation didn’t take place the night before at the concert. It is such a NECESSARY dialogue that needs to be brought out into the human condition—-how words do promote peace, or misconceptions, or can invoke violence.

THURSDAY

Met with a young singer/songwriter over lunch after flying in from Dallas. We discussed the music industry and I explained all the plusses/minuses. Tried to share the knowledge I have to help her consider her options/opportunities and to explain general workings of big labels/distribution/touring/indie labels/publicists….

Later, drove over to KNVA to do a taping for “Austin Faith Dialogue” with Sandy Wilder. We talked about my faith as a Christian, we talked about how I feel, just like my bumper sticker states, that “God is too big to fit inside one religion”, which I know can ignite passionate debate with some within the Christian community, but that is how I perceive God’s love.
We talked about how sexuality needs to be discussed in faith -based homes with children, so that kids can have a healthy understanding of their bodies, how things work…we talked about community involvement. Sang a little. I wondered if I talked too much, but Sandy was a quiet, tender guide, so I assumed I was answering in just the ways I was supposed to.
The crew was very nice, too. The show will air next Sunday morning at 8:00 am…

Walked outside, said our goodbyes, and as I got in my car to head home, I noticed a shaggy, long-haired homeless fellow walking with six or seven heavy plastic bags, pulling on his hands, and he actually fell to his knees as I drove by. I turned the car around, pulled up aside him and asked if he needed a ride….His first words to me, as I popped out and came around to help him load up were, “I’m a Christian!” I had to laugh out loud. I said, “I understand…me, too!” I drove him to 7-11 and purchased some cranberry juice and took out some money to share with him….He wanted me to take him to Taco Cabana, where he said he sometimes gets free tortillas if he helps to pick up trash around the building. We sat in the car and talked a bit about his writing, and he said he wanted to leave me with a gift…He pulled out these beautifully multi-colored sheets of paper, all organized with matching paper clips, and gave me an article for the girls, one for Lance, and one for me. I thanked him profusely…Drove home singing a song about Ghangis Khan, the name he had shared with me.

FRIDAY

Met with Chris from Super!Alright to discuss our impending tv pilot for the kids show we are working on, to talk about the script, financers, etc. Chris is one smart cookie. And I like his eyes cuz there seems to be dancing lightbulbs in there. Twinkly eyed man!

Lily went with me to Big Red Sun as my “road manager” and hawked my cds while I did a benefit concert to raise funds/awareness for Primavera Montessori…Alejandro Escovedo came on after me and Kristin…it was FREEZING outside…sang anyway…Maggie and Fred and Victoria and Bob came out, sat right in front…I was weepy on “My Mama’s Hands” because Maggie just lost her mom, and I was wanting to reach out to her through the song…and, also, singing the line “I don’t know all the answers, but I do the best I can” I sang right to Lily across the audience; she was staring right at me, and it was a moment out of time for the two of us, eyes locked, me telling her exactly what I was singing.

Afterwards, Lily and I went to Toys R Us to get io an Easter present, then to Furrs, not to eat, but to play on the claw. At Toys R Us, we both won a toy, and then we were psyced to go across the street to Furrs for the “challenge” of those two claws. That one was a bust…the items were too heavy and the claws too loose. Then she and I hopped in the car and went around the corner to Azul Tequila (?) where I finally had some dinner (9:30). It was half past Lily’s bedtime, but it WAS Friday night, and she WAS my road manager, so we were living it up, rock-n-roll style, me and my first born, chatting and laughing and Lily slurping a Shirley Temple and me and my water/cheese enchiladas. (Lily had eaten earlier, don’t worry! She had a yummy mean from Mr. Natural) As we were getting ready to leave, the mariachi band came over, super bunch of very nice guys, and had our picture taken with them. I was watching them perform and telling Lily, “It has got to be AWESOME to be a man in a mariachi band!” They always look so bonded and to be having the best of times!

SATURDAY

Got to church in time for the annual Easter egg hunt/picnic; saw a lot of church family/friends. Always a blast! This year, it was inside due to the 35 degree wet weather! Ay yi yi!

Came home, ran to the store, made homemade meatloaf, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, cornbread and salad for our dear friends, Doug and Jill Bryan, who are here visiting from Dallas. Doug played the lead/electric guitar on “Last Night Was A Big Rain,” so I have known him since…hmm….1988! He used to be in a band called Big Boss Groove. Jill is a wonderful singer, jubilant soul. They are such a great couple..and they brought their daughter, Riley Anna. So, the kids played and had dinner in iolana’s room on their own table (own S&P;shakers, own jug of lemonada, own plates and servings and table cloth and yea!) and we big people sat at the dining table and chatted/laughed. Very fun night. I bought watermelon for dessert, but we were all pretty stuffed. Still have watermelon!

SUNDAY

Went to church this morning….Lily was the acolyte…this was, of course, after the girls got up at 6:30 am because the EASTER BUNNY HAD COME TO OUR HOUSE AND IT WAS TIME TO GET UP RIGHT NOW HURRY HURRY!!! so I was up at 6:30 hearing the joyful shouts of, “Oh, look how CUTE! The Easter Bunny is SO NICE! I loooooooooooove it!” or “Lily, look over here!” or
“io, I see something in mom and dad’s room….!” Then breakfast, get dressed, go to church, go to lunch with the Jeansonnes, the Bryans, and now we are home, and I am stopping by to say HELLO and HAPPY EASTER and hope you are being blessed in some mystical, fantastical way today….We will be taking the watermelon next door for, yet, ANOTHER egg hunt/luncheon at Miss Jen’s house.

Time to go put on some jeans and get outta my church clothes. It is brr-brr- cold and my feet are freezing. Why, I can not say. But they FEEL blue. I need some ski socks! I’m such
a lightweight with cold weather!


posted by Sara Hickman at 10:41 am
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The Blessings Project

I’m on a daily blessings project email list, and this was the message they sent out for today. I wanted to share it as I am about to ride the 50 miles in the Hill Country Ride for AIDS, and have no formal training. I had to smile as I read this story because it gave ME hope, for sure!

THE UNSTOPPABLE POTATO FARMER

“The word impossible is not in my dictionary.”
—Napoleon Bonaparte

You may have never heard of him, but for many years now, Cliff Young has been one of my heroes. In 1988, when he was 61 years old,
Cliff showed up to compete in a 600-kilometer race between Sydney and Melbourne, Australia. Far more grueling than a marathon, this
five-day racing event attracts only the best of the best, the world-class runners, the kind of athletes who know all there is to know about their sport and routinely break records by proving it.

Cliff Young was not that kind of athlete. In fact, he had never run in a race like this before and, to make matters worse, he showed up
on that day in 1988 wearing overalls and work boots covered by galoshes. No one considered him a runner. Everyone considered him a
joke.

When asked by the media what made him think he was qualified for such a race, and what he had done to condition himself for the run,
Cliff answered honestly that he was a farmer, not an athlete. His personal trainers had not been professional running coaches who
understood every nuance of the sport, but rather the cows and pigs inhabiting his farm. Chasing them on foot had gotten him in shape,
he explained.

Cliff was a real oddity in many ways. Not only was he too old to run in such a race and dressed inappropriately, the way Cliff moved
wasn’t as much a run as it was a shuffle. The poor man just did not pick up his legs well at all. As the race began, people along the
sidelines yelled out to get the old man off the track before he killed himself.

It was quite obvious that Cliff just didn’t know any better. Living in the outback where televisions and newspapers were still a rarity
and at a time when the world wide web was still unknown, Cliff was unaware of how such races were run. He did not know, for instance,
that the runners ran for 18 hours each day and then slept for six, resting and repairing their bodies for the next day’s run. The
truth was that it was humanly impossible to do otherwise but Cliff didn’t know this truth. And so, like the Energizer bunny, he just
kept going. And going. And going.

Had Cliff finished the race in third, or fourth or even tenth place, his story would have remarkable, especially considering that
he many of those he was running against were a third his age.

But Cliff didn’t finish in third, fourth, or tenth place. Cliff finished first, stepping across the finish line far ahead of the
second place runner, possibly because he wasn’t aware of all the truths that said he couldn’t. And Cliff not only won the race, he
cut a day and a half off the world record time!

Cliff won the race that day because he refused to stop. He kept on moving forward. That is what we must do in order to win this race
to a healed world. Just as Cliff knew one foot had to be continually placed in front of the other, we know that there are
certain tasks ahead of us that must be completed if we are to achieve our goal. A billion blessings is a lot of blessings, a
very, very big lot, and in order to do this, it’s going to take us all moving forward, casting blessings wherever we go..


posted by Sara Hickman at 07:04 am
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Thoughtful in Seattle

Hey Sara,

You may get lots of feedback from people about how your music reaches people and touches their lives in special ways. This one doesn’t involve one of your songs, but you’ll get the idea.

About two years ago, a spry elderly lady came in to donate platelets at our blood center. I took her through the whole donation process which took about two hours for that procedure. We finished up and she went on her way to have some lunch.

An hour or two later she showed up again. I was worried that something was wrong, maybe I’d bruised her arm with the needle stick or something. She said she’d gone to lunch and come back because she wanted to thank me. I had no clue what she was talking about though. Apparently during a donation of hers several years earlier her husband had been seriously ill at that time and we’d gotten to talking. She’d appreciated that I’d listened for a bit while she’d talked about his situation and the good and bad times they’d been through. What floored me was she said she’d remembered who I was when she paid for her lunch because she’d ask me to jot something down for her that I’d said during that previous conversation. Then she pulled a note from her purse, in my handwriting, dated from five years earlier:

“Some of it’s magic, some of it’s tragic
But it’s been a good life all the way.”- Jimmy Buffett

I can’t help but think that he’d be tickled that there’s a seventy-something year old lady out there who’s never heard any of his songs deriving some comfort from a lyric fragment passed along by someone in an off the cuff quote.

Like ripples in the pond, eh?

Chad

posted by Sara Hickman at 06:52 am
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