Oh so many years ago, I went to a tavern for the very first time. The slightly older guy, a perpetual student, put money in the juke box, then let me pick the songs. I perceived this as some test of coolness, but I didn't recognize 98.5% of the titles. After what seemed to me an extended period of agony, I punched in "Silver Threads and Golden Needles" by Linda Ronstadt, and "La Grange" by ZZTop.
I know I picked "Silver Threads" because I was pretty good at embroidery, and I was praying this was some sort of omen. I don't have a clue why I picked "La Grange". Probably sheer social panic. Many, many chili dogs with cheese, and pitchers of beer later, I still like these songs. "Silver Threads and Golden Needles" seems like a defiant refusal to be victimized in spite of a raw emotional wound. After an inconclusive Dogpile search for lyrics, I wonder if I made up my own words, since none of the versions seem right. I have always loved the expression, "beneath the haloed moon". Now that I have my new cd player in the Buick, I can't play my old cassette. It may be time for a new cd.
When my friend Janie asked me to make some headscarves for her to wear during chemotherapy, I went off on a dye and discharge binge. I wanted that creative flow of energy to channel through her knocking out all the cancer cells. Buying dye at the craft store I was propelled into the thread aisle, and captivated by the silver thread. It was a bit of bibbity-bobbity-boo, and I knew I had to stitch that fight-back attitude into the scarves. My sewing machine doesn't have golden needles, but I hope Janie can connect to the fighting spirit of the silver thread. I hope she will know that every stitch is a prayer.
No comments:
Post a Comment