THE FRAGILE LINE (Between Life and Death)
5/8/07

"Death is a debt to nature due
That I have paid, and so must you."

This is an epitaph from a 1782 gravestone that I saw recently. What was I doing in a graveyard, wandering around reading epitaphs, you ask? I happen to love graveyards. I always have. People think I’m crazy, but they’re wonderful places for picnics. They’re peaceful. Contemplative. There’s a strange and deep energy there. The murky vibes come, probably not from the dead, but more from the grieving and sorrow that has been brought there by the living. I grew up next to a graveyard. I played there. I did homework there. I picked wildflowers, found wild berries in the overgrown grass. And as I would look at the stones, I would wonder who those people were. What were their stories? And what would someone one day think as they looked upon my name?

Don’t get me wrong, graveyards at night are creepy. When I was in high school, and I was involved in all the good-girl after school activities, like drama and marching band and ladies choral ensemble and hand bell choir, (yes, seriously,) I would take the late bus home at night and get dropped off at the end of my road. I lived way out. The bus would drive away, and the only thing between me and my house was about a quarter of a mile, a church, a graveyard, and a whole lotta darkness. I would run as fast as I could, feet slapping against the pavement, sound echoing through the headstones, all the way home where my mother would inevitably have some sort of heavenly crock pot casserole waiting for me.

But in the light of day graveyards are uber cool. I like to go with nice big paper and some crayons. I do rubbings. I know, so girlscoutish of me.

But graveyards also make us think. What happens to us after we die?

On my last show, Jason Webley told a ghost story. And he mused about the presence of ghosts. “I don’t believe in Ghosts,” he said. “Which is why they’re so annoying to me when they show up.”

Here’s a few lines of Webley on the subject of death and dying…

The flowers by your bed are wilting.
The sun is setting in the west.
A fog is covering your eyes,
Your stockings are attracting flies,
Decay is nibbling at the boards on which you rest.


On this show, I talk to singer/songwriter Bobby Sweet. See, a few years ago, he drowned in the Colorado River. He didn’t die. (I mean, duh.) But he almost died. He doesn’t like to talk about it. He has been to the edge. The brink. Perhaps beyond. And he’s back. Back in our world of phone calls and electric bills.


The profundity of life is so impalpable here. This world we’ve created is numbing. Once in a while we feel a flood. We see some truth.

5/8/2007 THE FRAGILE LINE (Between Life and Death)

Streaming:

Download:

dlmweb.com - audio web services

6/6/2007
Thank you Bobbie,

---