The first thing I remember knowing was a lonesome whistle blowing
And a young'un's dream of growing up to ride
On a freight train leaving town not knowing where I'm bound
And no one could change my mind but Mama tried
One and only rebel child from a family meek and mild
My mama seemed to know what lay in store
Despite all my Sunday learning towards the bad I kept on turning
Till Mama couldn't hold me anymore
CH: And I turned twenty-one in prison doing life without parole
No one could steer me right but Mama tried, Mama tried
Mama tried to raise me better, but her pleading I denied
That leaves only me to blame 'cause Mama tried
Dear old Daddy, rest his soul, left my mom a heavy load
She tried so very hard to fill his shoes
Working hours without rest, wanted me to have the best
She tried to raise me right but I refused….CH.
Companion Piece:
Mothering God, You Gave Me Birth ELW 735 (in the red hymnal)
1. Mothering God, you gave me birth in the bright morning of this world.
Creator, source of every breath, you are my rain, my wind, my sun
2. Mothering Christ, you took my form, offering me your food of light,
Grain of life, and grape of love, your very body for my peace.
3. Mothering Spirit, nurt’ring one, in arms of patience hold me close,
So that in faith I root and grow until I flow’r, until I know
Some artists… your favorite ones, have of chord striking magnetic voodoo that lasers meaning into your heart with such profundity that you come to see them, maybe privately or just in your head, as a close friend or even family. Or even better. Merle Haggard is my self proclaimed Spirit Grandpa. Papa Merle. I call him that in my head. Rolling along the in the random routines when the algorithm sends me a Merle song… “Ahhh (happy, sigh) Papa Merle…” Heart warms and spirit lifts. A reliable safe haven & creature comfort.
Speaking of comfort…
This week is Mother’s Day. And while the lectionary might not recognize it specifically, in the liturgical sense… we honor Mom and recognize the Mothering God… Happy Mother’s Day to all the Mama’s.
Mama Tried is a song that has lit me up since the first time I heard it years & years ago. The brutal honesty. The vulnerability. The opposite of self adulation or feather fluffing or self deprecating sorrow that can be so common in a hit country song… Something about the juxtaposition of the criminals humility… “that leaves only me to blame…”
What is it that rings so right with me about this song??
‘Nobody’s Fault but Mine’ from Led Zeppelin (or, if you were me growing up CCM, The 77’s ) does the same thing…
I just love Merle’s way of owning his shit. No self righteous pretense. The opposite.
It’s the kind of regret required for redemption. It’s remorse. I learned early in life some good tricks. Here’s one that’s not remorse: a poor, poor pitiful pleading, puppy-eyed apology (say that 1 times fast)…I got some miles with Mama on that one. Winking at my big brother & sister as they rolled their eyes… “Should you really be doing this?” said the shoulder angel… “Eh… I’ll just apologize afterwards. NBD.” That mentality caused a lot of pain to loved ones over the years. And my apologies grew meaningless. I wasn’t really sorry. I was escaping accountability. It wasn’t until I hurt the one I love the most… and felt the pain I caused her, that I experienced real regret. Like… ouch, that hurt. I can smell the tears and feel the pain. I wish I didn’t do that. But, I did do that. It’s because of me that this pain exists…
That leaves only me to blame…
——————————————
lonesome whistle blowing…
And a young'un's dream of growing up to ride….
Get me the F outta here. Yep, same here, Pappa Merle. From as long as I can remember…
“honey babe, I’m bound to ride. Yeah don’t you wanna go” (Ralph Stanley)
There’s a claustrophobia I know too well. I feel it indoors. I feel it in conversations.
I feel it worse when things pile on. To quote Bono, back at Sun Devil Stadium….“I want to run. I want to hide. I wanna tare down the walls that hold me inside…”
I saw the escape route in rock n’ roll. Merle saw it on a freight train. Did he ever.
He got arrested something like 14 times for trespassing on trains (hoppin’ boxcars) He’d jump a train in Bakersfield (CA), ride through the night and hop off somewhere in West Texas. He was doing this at age 15 & 16!! Can you even imagine?? Your 10th grader… doing this??
That’s around the time when it hit me. The bug. To get out. It itched. Bad. I became restless and irritable. This kid Joe was a senior. And he sat behind me. In 11th grade English. He looked 30. 6 feet tall. Full mustache. Like he’d been in English for his entire 20’s. Everyday, he slept. Like, the WHOLE period. He’d stumble in. Plop down & nighty nighty. Mr. Pomroy didn’t seem to mind until the snoring started. Then it was unlock the confiscated magazine drawer, roll one up and WHOP!! “Wake up, Joe.” (Now would be a great time for a ‘Sleepy Joe’ joke. But… no. Too soon.) One particular morning before he drifted into dreamland I said “Joe. dude… are you trying to take this class again? Do you want to be here for 5 more years? Don’t you wanna ever get outta here?” I just couldn’t fathom. Not why he’d not want to be a pristine student but rather why you’d do anything to risk the wrath of repeating a grade… AGAIN!?!? But then again… based on his facial hair, I think he was no stranger to the notion.
Pretty sure he had a Camaro and a Harley. And a chop shop where he sanded serial numbers. So.. yea, I could see why he didn’t feel an inspiration to excel in 11th grade English Lit. Who needs Steinbeck when your modding Mustangs for money. I mean… I thought I was the smart one of the two because I was… remaining conscious for class. But then he said something that might qualify as the greatest lesson I ever learned in high school if not my entire life… “I’m already done. Just gotta show up until June.” I’m sorry. Come again? He went on to tell me he took “night school” (evening classes at DCCC aka Delco Community College aka “D.C. Cubed”)and he already had enough credits to graduate. Just had to make an appearance three to four times a week…
Wait. I could hear my freight train pulling into the station. Sign me up.
I went to see the guidance councilor, Mrs. Byers, to confirm this glorious loop hole that had to be too good to be true. Reluctantly, with the concern of a mother loosing one of her sheep “well… technically, yes. You can…” Thanks. Bye. One, oneway ticket please. I graduated from 11th grade. Hold the honors. I’m outta here. Joined a band. Been “hopping freights'“ ever since.Was it what Mama wanted? Or Dad for that matter. Not remotely… Was I ready? Did I have what I needed to make it in the world?
Mothering God, you gave me birth…
…Creator, source of every breath, you are my rain, my wind, my sun…
Mrs. Byers, Mr. Pomroy, Mom, Dad, most of my friends… didn’t think it was the move. Why can’t you just do it like everyone else? What’s the rush?? What are you running from?
First thing I remember knowin’…
“Lord I was born ramblin’ man…” (Allman’s)
”I wanna die along the highway and rot away like some old highline pole
& rest this ramblin’ fever in my soul…” (More Papa Merle)
”…ran away from home for the very first time
I was only 4 years old, I’m a… “ (Freeborn Man, Tony Rice)
”on the road again, I just can’t wait… the life I love is making music with my friends & I can’t wait…” (St. Willie)
See, a lotta people got scared & sad. Worried that I wasn’t ready. Some called it restless. Ramblin’ on the road ain’t a life for a good Christian boy. Go to college. Get the tools you need to succeed in this wicked world… Prepare!!
Prepare?? My Mama & a Mothering God gave me breath. Rain. Sun. A voice. Legs. An undying love, need and want to commune in music. What a gift She has bestowed…. & Hands! (“I got two hands, gonna clap my hands together…” TVZ) & don’t forget…faith.
John 10:29
29 What my (Mother) has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the (Mother’s) hand. 30 The (Mother) and I are one.”
So off I went w/ Mama’s tried & true blessings.
And here I am… I turned 21 a freeborn man. Managed to stay outta prison.
Still movin’. Still got that Ramblin’ Fever Papa Merle left for me.
Was it the move? Well.. to quote the great Darren Schlappich “It’s too late to turn back now. I wouldn’t know how anyway…” (To Turn Back Now, Frog Holler)
’I been a rockin’. I been a rollin’ Some people call it foolish, well let ‘em make a fool outta me’ (Country Boy Rock & Roll, Reno & Smiley)
People called it foolish. I call it faith.
Thank You, Mom. I love you.
Happy Mother’s Day.
xoxo,
d
PS - Thanks to Neo Trio for appearing in my Mama Tried video.
Gigs:
- Sunday’s 9:30am : St. Matthew’s Lutheran Church / Chester Springs, PA
- 5/15 Neo Trio / Union Jacks / Boyertown, PA
- 5/16 Philly Nelson / Brickette Lounge / West Chester, PA / 9p
- 5/17 Frog Holler / Private Party
- 5/18 Frog Holler / West Reading, PA
- 5/22 Manatawny Creek Ramblers / Barley Mów / W. Reading, PA / 6-9p
- 5/23 DSB2 / Other Farm Brewing Co. / Boyertown, PA
- 5/24 Manatawny Creek Ramblers / Sly Fox / Pottstown, PA
- 5/31 Neo Trio / Bob Kesslers 40th / Evergreen Club / Fleetwood, PA
- 6/1 Frog Holler / Toledo, OH
- Sunday’s 9:30am : St. Matthew’s Lutheran Church / Chester Springs, PA
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