Thursday, August 6, 2009

Dancing on Railroad Tracks

Today's Thursday trip down memory lane is a little different, as we are not going to trip back to my childhood or my teens, but to my mid-twenties. A shorter trip, but sadly not by much. I am visiting relatives this week (thus the sporadic commenting - sorry!) to attend a festival in their hometown and I couldn't help reminiscing about festivals past.

Musikfest is one of my favorite festivals. I love the music and the food and the handcrafts. I love the city, full of history and warmth. I don't hate the beer. But none of those are the reasons Musikfest retains 'favorite' status among the many festivals I attend each year.

I have dated many musicians and passed time with many more. I even married one. Gave birth to a couple. But the only time I ever served as a muse was based on an afternoon at Musikfest.

It was a bright, sunny weekday in August. The air was laden with the sense of summer coming to an end and the promise of fall. We were both teachers, so we had the summer off. We spent the day at the festival. We had a couple beers - enough to dull inhibitions, but not enough to make foolish mistakes. The perfect amount.

Definitely enough to dance.

We did a mean polka at the Festplatz.

We tapped our feet and moved to some folk music at the Volksplatz.

We danced our way back to the car, twirling and swaying on the railroad tracks, fingers touching but not grasping, together but independent. It was sublime.

When I saw him the next weekend, he said he had something he wanted me to hear. He sat down behind his baby grand and started playing the most lovely melody. Delicate, intricate, free-spirited. He paused.

"It's not done yet."

"It's really pretty. What is it?"

"I think I'm going to call it Tammy Dancing on Railroad Tracks."

My hands went to my throat in a gesture that would've seemed more natural coming from the belle that I am not.

In reality, I am clumsy and awkward and prone to saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. I am plain of countenance and, if I'm going to be VERY generous with myself, 'sturdy' of frame.

In my mind's eye, though... in my mind's eye I am graceful and delicate and poised. I pull off a fairy-like combination of earthy and ethereal. In my mind's eye.

Apparently that's how I translate in song, too.

17 comments:

Eternally Distracted said...

I think it is much safer and nicer to believe your minds eye over ANYTHING else!!

Badass Geek said...

I have had many muses in the past, but some of my best music has been inspired by my wife.

mzbehavin said...

my hand went to my throat as I read this.........

and my eyes may have filled with tears........

long live dancing on the railroad tracks...........

it keeps us young........

it raises us up to the beauty.... ( okay.... maybe the beer, helped...... :-) )

wonderful post

Gibby said...

Oh. My. GOD!!!!
I would have melted on the spot! This is a great time to use the word swoon. (I never swoon.)
What a gift.

Vivienne said...

I would like to just say "ditto" to mzbehavin's comment. Except my hand went to my mouth to cover the gasp. I did tear up. I did get that fluttery, butterfly feeling in my stomach. That is an amazing post.

I think I will insist you post something everyday, even if it is just your grocery list... I'm sure in your hands, even that could be inspirational, moving or thoughtful.

JennyMac said...

I love this...and am watery eyed now after reading.

Kathy B! said...

Love it! This is wonderful. I think you translate equally well through your writing, and suspect you give yourself a hard time.

But still, how special :)

Cassie said...

Thats an awesome memory. Oh to be a muse and not just amused :o)

Housewife Savant said...

"My hands went to my throat in a gesture that would've seemed more natural coming from the belle that I am not."

Choking on a mint then?
It was one of those butterscotch buttons, wasn't it?
The're aspiration waiting to happen Tam.

You rock in my mind's eye too, whether graceful and delicate, poised er no.

Unknown Mami said...

Tammy, in my minds eye you are one of the most beautiful arresting women I have ever encountered. Truly. And I am not surprised you would be a muse.

MiMi said...

I would love if someone wrote a song about me!
Only it would be "Dorky chick trips and falls on her face. Ha ha."

mama-face said...

That was sublime.

How many of us can say we were someone's muse? Not me.

I love your memory lane.

Pam said...

Wow! What a magical moment that must have been. What a great memory. Everyone should get to a muse at least once in their life. I'm still waiting....

Sandy said...

One way to my heart has always been through music, but {sigh} it hasn't happened in many a moon.

Thanks for sharing your memory.

Alex the Girl said...

Outstanding...I wish we could have heard an audio, however, your dance across the railroad tracks was pure imagery. I envy this experience of yours, it is sheer poetry. The closest I have gotten to dancing on tracks is placing pennies on the rail.

The Redhead Riter said...

In my minds eye I sing like Karen Carpenter...just don't ask my family what I really sing like or they will say a dying cow, but they must be wrong...LOL

Stopping by with a little bloggie love tonight!

Melissa B. said...

Muse? I have too many to count!