Split Screen Sadness

It’ s been a while since I posted the song in my head. It’s not that the music isn’t there. I just haven’t felt a song personally in a while. There’s a difference between having a song in your head and feeling a song in your heart, I suppose.

The song in my heart and in my head this morning was John Mayer’s “Split Screen Sadness”. Like so many songs you hear these days, it expresses regret over a lost relationship and lost opportunities to make a relationship work.

I don’t know nothing about that, nosiree.

I do like the song though. My favorite lyric, and one that speaks to me very personally, says “I can’t wait to figure out what’s wrong with me, so I can say that’s the way I used to be”.  I’m eternally laboring to discover my faults and figure out where I went wrong. I tend to believe that if I can just figure that out, I can fix all the mistakes I’ve made and make things work that just didn’t. I realize that this is a fool’s game but it makes me feel like I’m growing if I at least try to tackle my major failings.

The other line that sings out at me is one that makes me smile. I’m a pretty stubborn guy and like to fight for things long after it makes little sense to do so. I’ve never liked to quit, never liked to give up and have always been convinced that things could be seen through by judicious application of faith and perseverance. I don’t have any evidence to back this up as I’ve been proven incorrect again and again…but I’m assuming this means more faith and perseverance need be applied.

I could be wrong.

Anyway, the line says “I know it was me who called it over but I still wish you’d fought me ’til your dying day.” I kinda’ like the idea of fighting with someone until the end, even if you’re making each other miserable.

Maybe I’m just a romantic at heart.


I know a girl
She puts the color inside of my world
She’s just like a maze
Where all  of the walls are continually changed

I’ve done all I can
To stand on the steps with my heart in my hand
Now I’m starting to see
Maybe it’s got nothing to do with me


Boys you can break
You’ll find out how much they can take
Boys will be strong and boys soldier on
But boys would be gone without warmth from
a woman’s good, good heart

John Mayer, “Daughers”

The Song in My Head has returned! It’s been on a bit of a hiatus for several reasons. For one, I just haven’t been paying attention in the mornings. Since the advent of daylight savings time I’ve been stumbling out of bed in the dark hours of the morning when both I and the voices in my head are barely awake. For another, I’ve discovered that many of the songs in my head…aren’t. Songs, that is. I’ll be jiggered if I can recognize, much less name, the tunes I wake up with some morning. I’m convinced that many of them are unique and new creations. If I could capture them, write them down and set down the notes, I’m sure I’d be a musical genius.

Aside: I also dream sometimes that I’m playing the guitar to a song of my own creation. I know it’s an awesome song and I know all the notes and lyrics whilst I’m dreaming. The tune fades rapidly as I awake, however, and I realize I have no knowledge of how to write music. I’ve made several attempts to capture the songs with little success. I think the definition of genius is the ability to capture these God-given inspirations and bring them forth into a concrete state.

Kinda’ like Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s penning of “Kubla Khan“. He managed to get out something like 100 lines that he’d dreamed before it faded into oblivion. If only we could produce what we dream, where would mankind be?


Anyway, and thirdly, I just haven’t had a lot of time to post.

Seeing how today is Saturday, I slept in a little later and it was light outside when I pushed my feet out of bed and onto the floor. The voices were like lively little puppies, licking my nose and encouraging me to get up, walk and feed them before they urinated on the carpet. They were singing rather gleefully and it was a tune I recognized and sing along to often in the car: John Mayer’s “Daughters”.

I love this song more every time I hear it. It reminds me of…well, several things. It reminds me of C, of course. (…and I’ve done all I can…) Most John Mayer songs do at some level. Probably because we went to his concert together. Maybe it’s because I know she hates this song. It’s typical of our relationship that she would hate the song that I most associated with her.

It also reminds me of another C. (There are lots of ‘C’s in my life, apparently.) This C was the only woman I ever loved at first sight. She was 10 months old at the time, staring up at me from her car seat with these big blue eyes. I think we had an understanding from the very first moment. Her father, at that time, wanted nothing to do with her. (He has since come around.) To me, she was gorgeous and I couldn’t understand how someone could not want to love and be loved by his own daughter. I decided then and there that she needed me and she became the daughter of my heart. That was nine years ago and,  after much water under the bridge, I love her still. I rejoice now in the fact that she has a loving family around her and a good father figure to guide her as she grows.

Lastly, it reminds me of the people around me. Several of my close female friends had no kind of relationship with their father at a formative period in their lives and most of them are still dealing with the hurts and wounds inflicted by that time of their life. Their need and longing for the love of a man is often frustrated by their inability to accept or understand it, simply because they have no good example by which to recognize it.

It makes me fearful for my good buddy and his six month-old daughter. My buddy doesn’t have a great relationship with the mother and, because of this, is only a father from afar. He’s not part of his daughter’s daily life and I worry that, though she’s young yet, wounds are starting to open that just won’t close for the rest of her life. I pray daily that her parents find a way to put aside their own hurts in order to find a way of preventing hers.

These types of hurts are so cyclical, passing  easily from one generation to the next, spreading out like ripples on a pond. It certainly makes it easy to see how all the trouble in the world can be traced back to mankind’s rift with our own Father.

So father’s be good to your daughters. Daughters will love like you do. Girls become lovers that turn in to mothers, so mothers be good to your daughters too.


Back To You

It’s been a few nights since I posted the song in my head. It’s not because I wake up with no song in my head. It’s just that I don’t always remember what it is later in the day. Once I get in the car to drive to work, the song usually leaves me. If it isn’t a song that I like or can name, it’s sometimes difficult for me to recapture it later in the day.

Or, sometimes, the song simply has no name. Yesterday morning I awoke to what I am convinced is a tune of my own contrivance. I couldn’t hum the tune to you now or sing a single lyric to you, but the song was there. I couldn’t even understand the lyrics as I was waking. But there was a tune and it was like singing. Just not in any human language. It was weird.

That was yesterday morning. This morning, I awoke to a much different and much more recognizable tune. This morning was John Mayer’s “Back to You”.

I have to admit that, as a grown man, John Mayer is highly uncool. C and I went to see him a few years back when Counting Crows opened for him in Charlotte. Ostensibly, we were there for the Crows and, if you ask me, the Crows put on the better show. You couldn’t tell that to the bazillion 14 year-old girls, however. As soon as Mayer took the stage, they all went berserk and threw their training bras on stage. It was insane.

Since that time, I have formed a grudging appreciation for Mayer. I have come to enjoy quite a few of his songs and he’s become a guilty pleasure.

Kind of like Journey or REO Speedwagon. Admit it. You like them and you sing along to every song. Don’t try to lie to me, cause I know you and I know when you’re lying.

Anyway, “Back to You” has become one of my favorite Mayer songs. As Mayer describes it, it’s a song about eighth and ninth and tenth chances. It has a  special meaning to me as it makes me think of a particular person in my life, someone who keeps popping up again and again.

She and I have had one of those relationships of which God will just not let go. For all the chances we’ve had, I’m eternally grateful, even if we fell one chance shy of for keeps.

This one is for you, C, wherever you are.