I was minding my own business, driving into work this a.m. when a persistent and annoying ringing sound started beckoning at me from my Chrysler's instrument panel. Critical engine overheating. Out of fluids. Managed to nurse it to my mechanic and the radiator is shot, being made out of plastic and will require replacement on monday. So I will have to utter the proper incantation and find a way to get here to there and back again from Del Mar to Fallbrook, throughout the course of the Antique Show this weekend. Must drive to San Francisco on Tuesday. Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans, as the wise sage once said.
Caught the amazing Peter Sprague playing guitar at the Roxy Restaurant in Encinitas on the way home last night. He is playing most thursday evenings and is remarkable. Lyrical, inventive and at times sublime. Last night he played through his new rendition of Oh Susanna, the Stephen Foster song. Foster wrote it in 1848. He had been working with some minstrel musicians.
The original lyrics:
- I came from Alabame' wid my banjo on my knee,
- I'm g'wan to Louisiana, my true love for to see
- It raind all night the day I left, the weather it was dry
- The sun so hot I frose to death; Susanna, don't you cry.
- Oh! Susanna Oh! don't you cry for me
- I've come from Alabame'
- Wid mi banjo on my knee.
- I had a dream de odder night, when ebery ting was still;
- I thought I saw Susana, a coming down de hill.
- The red, red rose war in her hand, the tear was in her eye,
- Says I, im coming from de South, Susana don't you cry.
- I soon will be in New Orleans,and den I'll look around
- And when I find Susana,I'll fall upon the ground.
- But if I do not find her, Dis darkie 'l surely die,
- And when I'm dead and buried, Susana, dont you cry.
The non p.c. second verse:
I jump'd aboard the telegraph and trabbled down de ribber,