About a month ago my wife and I took a trip up the coast to
Long Beach, California. I had heard a
few months earlier that the great Canadian folk singer/songwriter, David
Francey was coming to town for a house show.
And so, I immediately inquired about getting tickets. House concerts are small, informal venues at
someone’s house. This was a small event
and sold out immediately. I was put on a
waiting list. Unfortunately, someone
cancelled. I say unfortunate because
they were unable to listen to a great poetic musical talent. But it was fortunate for us because my wife
and I were able to attend. As luck would
have it the evening (May 18) was the anniversary of our engagement (27 years
ago).
It was beautiful venue.
The hostess, Julien Menard, was a very gracious host and even offered
dinner for those who wanted to stay. It
was a very intimate environment and a very nice afternoon.
The stage was set in the Menard’s living room--a stool for
the Artist, a chair for his guitarist, an overstuffed chair and sofa, and rows
of folding chairs for the guests. There
were two windows open to allow a nice breeze to flow through. Ahh, the breeze, every once in a while, the
wind will blow, and sometimes, on that wind, we are blessed with the music of
greatness – music of real people, real stories.
David’s poetry comes through his songs and subjects. His words are poetry and his subjects are
made so much more beautiful for it.
David’s songs touch everyone because his songs are about all of us.
I first discovered David Francey when I heard “The Fourth of
July” on XM radio, channel 15, 10 years ago.
I have been a fan ever since. One
CD, another, then another, and now I am hooked.
I love them all. And it seems
that each song somehow touches a part of my own existence, my own life’s
journey.
I have been a “Paper Boy”, I have spent nights in “Cheap
Motels” and I have traveled at “Nearly Midnight”, and traveled all alone at
that. I have spent the “Waking Hour”
wondering about new loves. In these
songs David touched me.
In the next set he sang one of my wife’s favorite
songs. “Broken Glass” is one that
touches us both. I was one of those shy 14 year olds. My heart broke every time one of those girls
went by.
Sunday morning’s in our neighborhood the church bells
ring. It is one of the things my wife
loves about our house. And we often go
walking and listen to the bells and watch all of the “Saints and the Sinners”
walk or drive past us.
David Francey sang a song titled “Green Fields”. I didn’t get a chance to thank David for this
song and for singing it. This was a
story of my wife and myself. I had a few
doomed relationships before I met my wife.
But I eventually wrote her a letter.
She wrote back and “love came with letters and the morning mail”. My
wife and I used to live off Greenfield Lane.
The song means a lot to us.
During the concert David spoke of his life’s
experiences. He used to be a “Paper
Boy”; I used to be a paper boy. He
washed dishes in a restaurant; I washed dishes in a restaurant. David
Francey is a poet for real life. I was
proud to have made his acquaintance.
David Francey is a real person, who writes real songs about
real people and real life.
