Tail of the Weak 3.21
Updated: Jan 25
Tail of the Weak is a series of insights and musical memories from the mind of Uncle Dave Griffin, singer/songwriter and founder of the Annual Gram Parsons Guitar Pull and Tribute Festival, from Waycross, Georgia.
If I may impart for a moment—when you get to be almost 65 years old, you're supposed to have somethin' to impart, whether its a pearl of wisdom or a sexagenarianist (hmm, I like the sound of that) opinion. It's easy to get married—it's hard to stay married—this, coming from a man who's been married thrice. Don't do as I do—do as I say don't do.
It took three times for me to learn—and, believe me, it's still not easy. To make it easier on myself, I married Deanna Lynne on her birthday, May 29, 1993. My loving little wife and I have now shared 25 years of marriage—and, at times, we've caused each other our fair share of pain. But, like Don Schlitz and Donny Lowery wrote, so intuitively, in the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band song, “If we're ever gonna see a rainbow...we have to stand a little rain”.
Since she was a young girl, Lynne had always dreamed of a hippie wedding—barefoot in the grass with flowers in her hair and flowers on the ground. It took some convincing on her part—'cause I'm a hard-head with a stubborn grace—but, eventually, I agreed we'd have our vows renewed in a simple ceremony.
So, on March 9, 2013, the beautiful Anne Yarbrough was on hand with her ever-present camera; and, the Right Reverend Ty Manning officiated during the 3rd Annual Swamptown Getdown Music and Arts Festival. Ty, Lynne, and I stood inside a peace sign circle, made of azaleas, with friends and festival attendees surrounding us—just as the Waycross sun began to sink in the sky to the west.
Lynne had written a beautiful oath that almost made me cry. I'm not real good at speakin' my heart; so, I sang her a song I'd written a month earlier—the words inspired after staring at a rock she had borrowed from a fountain in a local motel, painting on it “My love is a rock...it is written in stone”.
I am a simple man when it comes to the complexities of love; so, instead of pontificating ad nauseam about a subject that I pretend to know about, I'm gonna just set down some lines that I've written for her over the years to show what her love means to me.
Love may come...and love may go — But there's only one...true love I know
When we kissed...at once I knew — The only love...for me was you
There ain't nothin' I could miss like a little, bitty kiss from you, baby
Just a little bitty kiss from you and in a second I knew, baby
No sugar lips could be so fine to make three little words flow out like wine
I love you–love you–love you–love you–love you–love you–love you
Baby, I love you
Without thorns, she'd have no passion — Without storms, she'd wither away
She's my love...sweet everlasting — She's my rose...she's my rose
Like two love bugs on a automobile — Let's make hot love on a cool windshield
Ain't no secret 'bout the way I feel — Honey, let's make love tonight
By the Mississippi at a quarter to five
With some ragin' Cajuns in some all night dive
Pinchin' tails and head-suckin' Louisiana crawfish
Took her back to the motel where I got my wish
My perfect girl wear a hula hoop — Taste like vanilla in a double scoop
She burn and burn like a long cigarette — And when she bad, she as good as it get
She draws bard owls on the wall — And she builds hula hoops out of polyvinyl chloride
And if I stumble she cradles my fall — With loving arms, open wide
I strain to catch a glimpse...as you twirl into a spin
I long to smell the sweetness...of your perfume on the wind
I love to hear you whisper...words of love upon my skin
Baby, I still love this love we're in
My love is a rock...it is written in stone
I'll love you so hard...I'll love you so strong
My love is a wheel...and it rolls right 'round
It rolls like a rock...and it will not slow down
It takes two people—with a lot of give and take—a ton of self-adjustment and sacrifice—to make a marriage work.
Sometimes it's roses and rainbows—sometimes it ain't very pretty—you'll laugh and cry with joy—you'll weep and wail in anger—sometimes you get a bouquet of flowers in a lead crystal vase—and sometimes you might get a lead crystal vase hurled at your head
But, if you're still standing in the end, that's the warm and wonderful, safe and secure feeling that I know—and it's worth every inch of sorrow, toil, and strife that you deal with along the way.
American Spirit: Uncle Dave and The Younguns
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Memories straight from the mind of Uncle Dave Griffin