Stephen stumped me in music trivia yesterday. I mention this because, not only is this a very rare occasion, it was something that anyone who knows me would think that I would know…but I didn't. I have a dirty little secret. A Pink Floyd secret. I only own two of their CDs; Dark Side of the Moon and Delicate Sound of Thunder, which is a live double album that features an extensive body of their work. So shoot me. That being said, you pretty much guessed that my musical knowledge faltered due to the aforementioned PF song at the title of my blog, which isn't really a song per se, just Roger Waters making a lot of weird sounds in a very rhythmic quality. I heard this for the very first time today. I did, however, pick out some of the similar sounds that were the beginnings of what I think I hear on the songs "Money" and "Comfortably Numb". Which leads me to the second purpose of my blog: Did you know that David Gilmour turned 62 this year? Wow. My friend Misha writes a blog and has mentioned a game called Hump Island…David Gilmour would be my male celebrity, over 50, philanthropist, guitar hero, Renaissance man.
I don't remember the first time I saw a picture of David Gilmour. Pink Floyd has been around since before I was born, but I will never forget that face…When I was a young girl, I did not really know of his insipid-yet hypnotic vocal influence, nor his concentrated genius level guitar playing…all I knew was that face, which I'm pretty sure I saw on an album cover over at Holly Boman's house. Her parents had the coolest record collection: my parents, not so much. What I did have when I was a little girl, was a mom that used to read me a children's Bible, or maybe it could have been a 1960s hippie rock and roll Bible, because within it contained drawings of an auburn-haired Grecian God that was reminiscent of a circa 1973s David Gilmour…
Whoa, Nelly. I don't know if I transferred some kind of monotheistic Jesus-like qualities to David Gilmour, but this is pretty much what I pictured in my mind when I sang "Yes Jesus Loves Me," as a wee lass. Yes…Jesus, love…me! I know you must be thinking, impure thoughts at such a young age, Martha? Tsk, Tsk. Well, not really, but you have to admit the hotness factor, and the capacity for love that little girls have for all things pretty. I mean look at the guy…all tousled like he just rolled out of bed with that come hither look on his face…Total Rock Star, a la Andrew Lloyd Webber, man. That being said, I have this very recurring sexual dream with David Gilmour in it, and my subconscious mind being a veritable cacophony of music and imagery of my previous day, I had another DG dream. It always starts out the same way…I'm in seventh grade and I am at a party at some Victorian house on the west side of First street in Benicia (this was the house that I attended my very first "pot" party with Denise Francom and another girl whose name escapes me at the moment…was it Alicia Adams? I cannot remember). Anyway, the most I did at this party was smoked cigarettes and listened to Stairway to Heaven, Freebird, Comfortably Numb, then was too scared to try anything else, so I eventually walked home. However, at this party, I remember looking at a Pink Floyd album cover rather intently, and there was David Gilmour…most of the guys at this party were sporting some kind of similar look, and the temptation to make out with one of them was pretty high, but I was too scared of Mr. Romer to try anything so silly. He knew who all of the troublemakers in town were, and I knew these guys were on the top of his list. My point to all of this is that I can pinpoint my recurring dream of David Gilmour to this moment in my impetuous youth, as I was surrounded by all the cliché temptations of sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll, as it were. The dream always starts out in this Victorian house, with Breathe in the Air playing somewhere in the background. "Run, rabbit run; Dig that hole, forget the sun; And when at last the work is done; Don't sit down;
It's time to dig another one." Somewhere it changes to a laser light show, and I am lying on a beanbag looking up in a planetarium snuggled up to DG, and "stuff" starts happening. There are various incarnations of this dream, like being in a poppy field, or chained up in a labyrinth (just picture any avant-garde 1970s rock album cover) but I always wake up before "THE DEED" and always a bit out of breath, in need of a glass of water. And I breathe in the air…
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