Posts Tagged ‘PIL’

We Climb So High and Gain So Low

Wednesday, February 25th, 2009

Musical compass Elastic Heart put this song on a 1990 mix a while back, and it’s still on heavy rotation here at TSRHQ. Seems appropriate for these times, no?

I could be wrong, I could be right,
I could be black, I could be white,
I could be right, I could be wrong,
I could be white, I could be black.

Your time has come, your second skin.
You climb so high and gain so low.
Walk through the valley.
The written word is a lie.

May the road rise with you.

They put a hotwire to my head
‘cuz of the things I did and said.
They made these feelings go away,
but those feelings get in every way.

May the road rise with you.

(Anger is an energy.)

May the road rise with you.

In other news, it’s another 60-degree day here, so we’re planning a pupwalk as soon as the batteries recharge in the cell and camera. We’ve got to get the walks in while we can, because we’re heading back into the fridge tomorrow. But it’s nearly March. Know hope.

And last night ended up being more fun and more social than planned. I walked downtown to a local sushi place, where I tumbled into an epic sake-driven conversation with a funny fifty-something who lived in San Francisco from 1977-1988. He survived punk, disco, and the rise of AIDS there, then finally got diagnosed with HIV in the late 80’s.

After a year spent traveling the world (really the only appropriate response to such news), he ended up back here to take care of his dying father. And so the living goes; each of us bears a bit of dark with the light as we step through our days. Now he cooks and thrifts and bikes around town, taking joy in things like random Fat Tuesday chatter over urchin and oysters.



Properly toasted, I walked back home wearing my furry bear hat, which makes me feel warm and invincible. Perhaps I will post a picture one day. And now it’s time for a bear hat-less walk up and around the city zoo, where we’ll commune with the llamas and camels. (And by commune, I mean yap our freak asses off at. That’s Archie’s plan, at least.)