His River, My Canal
The past week has demonstrated for me, as if I didn’t already know, that life can be all about natural flow, heading downriver freely and perhaps in tune with a larger power; or it can be about getting through a bunch of sometimes momentarily jarring locks on a canal that will, you hope, take you where you want to go: open water.
Sure, it’s possible to imagine life without waterways at all – being firmly planted without any forward movement — but grant me this particular dichotomy for the time being.
At least for the heart of June, my husband has been in the former boat; I’ve been in the latter. This is not to say, by any means, that his days and nights have been all easy and mine have been challenging; they’ve just been very different. When the group in canoes dealt with headwinds, for example, the paddling must have been hard. But he also saw plenty of stars at night. Here’s the gist of it: he’s been on an actual river, while my canal has been neither Erie nor Panama, but mostly just in my mind– as I try to complete one job and start another.
We will meet again tomorrow, and it’s bound to take a little time to get back in synch. But, oh, the conversations we’ll have! Better yet, maybe we can usher in summer by playing some really good music.
There are so many wonderful songs about being on rivers; has anyone ever counted? For instance, Marian Anderson singing the spiritual, “Deep River” – goes right down into your soul. I’ve played the sweet folk song “Red River Valley” for eons, and Al Green’s “Take Me To The River” always must be cranked up to be fully enjoyed. My kids love the current artist Leon Bridges, who sounds much like a new embodiment of Sam Cooke; and his hit “River” has a chorus that’s so simple:
Take me to your river
I wanna go
Oh, go on
Take me to your river
I wanna know
Indeed, both the quantity and the quality of storied river music could in itself create a magnificent waterfall of sound. Even though my husband would not count Creedence Clearwater Revival among his favorite rock groups, and the kind of big boat featured in this song is way different than a slim canoe, I just have to share their original 1969 version of “Proud Mary” because it is, unmistakably, all about shedding the hackles of the regular grind and celebrating the freedom that the river brings. Click here to see the group do it up on stage. Sure will take you back.
Left a good job in the city
Workin’ for the man every night and day
And I never lost one minute of sleepin’
Worryin’ bout the way things might have been.
Big wheel keep on turnin’
Proud Mary keep on burnin’
Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ on the river
Even if you’re not on a dance floor, how can anyone hear that song and not feel better? It gives us hope—hope that joy is in fact attainable. Nearby on his raft, Huck would have understood.
As for the canal experience, well, that’s not quite so smooth, but there still can be transformation.
Who am I to say, really, having never really been on an actual canal? Hmm, I don’t think so anyway. I’m guessing many of you readers have in fact had the pleasure of going on perhaps a European river trip; you’ll know much more about this than I do. If so, please send comments.
What I understand about it is that technology needs to lend a hand, in order to allow the boat or barge or whatever to change levels, up or down, so that it can make its way through some terrain that wasn’t originally navigable by water. This all takes an enormous amount of effort, particularly in the original construction of the canal. Hope I’m close, anyway.
The reason I’ve felt that my experience of late has been canal-like is because I’m shifting from one main focus (my full-time job an hour away) to another (my book manuscript, which has been sitting on the shelf, quite literally, for too long). I’m going through a kind of series of locks, trying to fulfill my final responsibilities at school while at the same time starting to fulfill my new commitments to a group of writers with whom I’ll be meeting weekly, going forward.
It feels a bit, shall we say, choppy at times. There’s some lurching forward involved, as well as lots of pangs, plenty of excitement. It’s not a quiet ride.
In the interest of offering you more good music, I’m about to turn to Bruce Springsteen to give voice to the experience of a canal trip—even though in truth this perspective is actually from the shore.
The classic song, “Erie Canal” was originally called “Low Bridge, Everybody Down” and was written back in 1905 by Thomas S. Allen after barge traffic was converted to engine power from the original method of having mules do the pulling. There are no doubt many wonderful versions of this I could share, but Bruce’s gravelly rendition is just right. It’s worth all four minutes of watching, and here it is.
I’ve got a mule and her name is Sal
Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal
She’s a good old worker and a good old pal
Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal
We haul’d some barges in our day
Filled with lumber, coal and hay
We know every inch of the way
From Albany to Buffalo
Don’t you love that minor key? Fantastic. The song is just oozing with the strain of hard work, but the speaker’s pride in his mule and what they’ve done together makes everything rise up.
No mule has accompanied me to my job over the past week; I took the highway. But I sure have been glad to see my wonderful dog Rocky at the end of the long days. And I’m relieved to know that all the rivers out there are not going to stop flowing anytime soon; there’s still time to see those eagles I’ve heard about, to feel the whoosh of the rushing water, or to loll around in a calm pool. No, it’s not too late. Summer is young.