Every Drop of Rain

Hi Peoples.

So here I am again with some music, stories, and adventure.

If you know me well, you know that I am an odd person, who is oddly drawn to odd things.  Oddly enough, I will share with you something oddly odd.  This week's song is from an album called "Here Lies Love."  Once I heard about this album, I knew I had to have it.  David Byrne (of Talking Heads' fame) and British DJ and songwriter Norman Cook (otherwise known as Fatboy Slim) teamed up to write this album.

David Byrne wanted to write a musical about former Philippine first lady Imelda Marcos.  As he was doing research on her life, he learned that she loves to disco dance.  This inspired him to collaborate with Fatboy Slim to give his songs a disco beat.  He intended to put the show on stage to tell the story of Marcos' life while giving the show a discotheque feel.  Then, after writing the songs, he hired several different female artists to sing on the record.  I am a fan of David Byrne, and once I had heard that this album existed, I knew I had to own it.

Candie Payne is the artist who sings the song that was stuck in my head Wednesday morning, "Every Drop of Rain."  This song is about the woes of being poor and is the second track on the album.

I like the idea of this song, how someone who is poor feels "every drop of rain."  I think this is true for anyone who feels sorry for himself.  I've talked about this before, but my son has a bum left arm that doesn't work.  He was born this way, and we've already had one operation for him back in July last year.  8 months later, we've found ourselves again at Shriner's Hospital in Sacramento for another procedure today.  This time, the doctors are transferring nerves in both the bicep and forearm.  It's not nearly as invasive as the first surgery, but he is very little and any kind of surgery for a parent can be nerve racking.

I guess I'm trying to tie this song into how I'm feeling.  There's a temptation to feel sorry for yourself, to wonder what you could have done differently, to blame yourself for his troubles, or to just wish things could be different.  I am a worrier.  I fret over everything.  Yet, for some reason, even with all of Jude's troubles, I have never been in deep despair over his arm.  I've watched him take 15 months to learn to pull himself up, scoot around on his bum instead of crawl, and fall countless times hard on his head- having only one arm to brace his fall.  Still I feel, and have always felt, that he would be OK whether we can fix his arm or not.

Those of you who know him, understand what a great kid this is.  He always smiles.  He is sociable, and likes everybody.  He makes everybody happy with his charming personality.  His charm is probably one of the main reasons I don't worry about him.  He's just a rad kid.