Day 303

We walked from Ocean Grove to Asbury Park last night to see Rufus Wainwright at the historic Paramount Theater. He sang a beautiful walking song that his late mother, Kate McGarrigle, wrote for her husband, Loudan Wainwright III during what Rufus called, “a brief moment of conjugal bliss.”

Maybe because I go walking all the time, rain or shine, blues or joy, this feels like one of the prettiest love songs I’ve heard in a long time. I hate to admit it made me cry, because Pam was on one side of me snickering, and Frank was on the other side…not exactly snickering…but almost.

They thought I was nuts, but if there’s somebody you really love (who won’t laugh at you), go walking, and bring this song to play on your Ipod. I know I’d love it.

(The bootleg video’s pretty bad, so here are the lyrics):

The Walking Song

Wouldn’t it be nice to walk together
Baring our souls while wearing out the leather
We could talk shop, harmonize a song
Wouldn’t it be nice to walk along

I’ll show you houses of architectural renown
Some are still standing, some have fallen down
Farm houses buried under Canada’s snow
Spanish villas on the Boulevards of Mexico

And I’ll learn to tell the ash from the oak
And if you don’t know I wont make no joke
Well climb to the top to view the world from above
Or carve our initials in the trunk like teenagers in love

And when we get hungry well stop to eat
Gotta think of our stomachs and rest our feet
If we get thirsty well have a drink or two
In a mountain top bar with a mountain top view

And when we get tired we’ll stop to rest
And if you still want to talk you can bare your breast
If it’s winter and cold we’ll take a rooming-house room
If it’s summer and warm well sleep under the moon

And we’ll talk about the sports we played
Bout the time you got busted or the time I got laid
Well talk blood and how we were bred
Talk about the folks both living and dead

This song like this walk I find hard to end
Be my lover or be my friend
In sneakers or boots or regulation shoes
Walking beside you I’ll never get the walking blues.