SEATTLE, Washington Suddenly the mojo is rising. And probably not just because I'm headed to mine own caput mundi, Rome, or that I've listened to this song 100 times since Berlin's Bowleserised posted it, erm, two days ago.
Shamed. That's how I'd feel. If The Be Good Tanyas from nearby Vancouver, BC, Canada hadn't flipped my attitude around like a weathervane. Littlest Birds lopes right up and slouches on the saggy porch, wisecracking and quaffing sweet tea, till you cuff it affectionately on the mullet and say, "gosh darnit!"
Last time a ditty slammed home so hard, it sparked a book proposal. Let's hope that doesn't happen again, eh? I'm not even done with the first.
I'm not prone to gushing. But. Well. I think this song cures depression quicker 'n a jar of moonshine.
I got the wanderin' blues
And I'm gonna quit these ramblin' ways one of these days soon
And I'll sing
The littlest birds sing the prettiest songs...
Well it's times like these I feel so small and wild
Like the ramblin' footsteps of a wanderin' child
And I'm lonesome as a lonesome whippoorwill
Singin' these blues with a warble and a trill
But I'm not too blue to fly
No I'm not too blue to fly