Translate

My books can be purchased as e-books for only $1.99. If interested, just click here: Books.
Match Play is a golf/suspense novel. Dust of Autumn is a bloody one set in upstate New York. Prairie View is set in South Dakota, with a final scene atop Rattlesnake Butte. Life in the Arbor is a children's book about Rollie Rabbit and his friends (on about a fourth grade level). The Black Widow involves an elaborate extortion scheme. Doggy-Dog World is my memoir. And ES3 is a description of my method for examining English sentence structure.
In case anyone is interested in any of my past posts, an archive list can be found at the bottom of this page.
My newest novel, Happy Valley, can be found here.

Wednesday, September 2

I'm new to this kind of writing, so I guess I'll just post daily random thoughts and see what happens.

I recently heard a song for the first time and was so impressed with it I have to talk about it. Boz Scaggs, on a cd I just bought, sings "The Ballad of the Sad Young Men" and it's just about the saddest thing I've ever heard. Sad, not depressing. And then I bought cd's by Kurt Elling and Jane Monheit and lo and behold, the same song showed up on both. Then I went exploring to find out who wrote it and when. It was one of the tunes from a failed Broadway show in 1959 called The Nervous Set, music by Christopher Peacock, lyrics by Tommy Wolf. How could I never have heard it in all that time since it first appeared?

Sing a song of sad young men, glasses full of rye,
All the news is bad again, kiss your dreams goodbye,
All the sad young men, sitting in the bars,
Knowing neon lights, missing all the stars,
All the sad young men, drifting through the town,
Drinking up the night, trying not to drown,
All the sad young men, singing in the cold,
Trying to forget that they're growing old.
All the sad young men, choking on their youth,
Trying to be brave, running from the truth.

Autumn turns the leaves to gold, slowly dies the heart,
Sad young men are growing old, that's the cruelest part.
All the sad young men seek a certain smile,
Someone they can hold for a little while,
Tired little girl does the best she can,
Trying to be gay for her sad young man.
While the grimy moon watches from above,
All the sad young men play at making love.
Misbegotten moon, shine for sad young men,
Let your gentle light guide them home tonight,
All the sad young men.

The words by themselves don't do as much as they do with the music. Find this song and listen to it silently. This isn't a conversation tune. You'll see what I mean about its sadness, not its depression.

Blog Archive

Any comments? Write me at jertrav33@aol.com