March 23, 2004

• Plagarism and Copyright Laws

  I know there have been some lyrics sites on the Web that have gone under because music companies claim that having these sites up makes people less likely to buy CD’s or some other strange reasons. I have discovered more music from people breaking copyright laws on the Web than I did living in the dorms in college where my dormmates and I traded our albums all the time.

  And so I justify my own law-breaking. So there! Nyah!

  I love this song. It makes me think of all the people I know who dreamed a dream, and then died thinking they didn’t succeed. Those people send a message to me that resounds in my brain, everytime I think things are not going as planned. And my dad’s advice reminds me, “You always have another chance. Well. . . except if you’re dead.”

  Dreaming a dream? Keep trying! The dead can’t try anymore.

  
  

  Building a Boat by Eileen Quinn
  He’s not getting any younger so the doctors say and he wonders how it is all that time has slipped away it’s not that he’s unhappy with the farm or the wife it’s just that haunting feeling that there may be more to life may be more to life he’s no stranger to hard work and he’s good with his hands so he sends off to Seattle for a set of plans and the harvest is in now autumn’s on the run and he figures come the spring he’ll be done though he never did say the spring of which year he is building a boat, building a dream building the finest vessel ever seen in his mind’s eye she’s already afloat so sweet, so complete he is building a boat every now and then he fights that old familiar pain as the planet circles round the sun five times again and that boat takes every dollar and every hour that’s free and he spends his days upon the tractor dreaming he’s at sea, dreaming he’s at sea	when the sun is sinking low he pours a little rum and gazes out across the fields to watch the evening come and the wind blows the wheat into waves of gold and green the loveliest ocean he’s ever seen the only ocean he’s ever seen he is building a boat. . . a dream’s a fine and fragile thing borne upon the frailest wing doesn’t mean that it won’t fly who can name the moment when a boat is finally done? she’s fair and sound and rigged six years after he’s begun now he’s on to proud work the varnish and the brass when he feels that twinge within his chest and waits for it to pass but this time it won’t pass it wraps its arms around him it tightens like a band and sitting in the cockpit now he comes to understand that he’s finally on his way now though not quite as he planned and the last thing he’s aware of is the tiller in his hand that’s how they found him with the tiller in his hand building a boat. . . a dream’s a fine and fragile thing borne upon the frailest wing take yours with you when you fly. . . .
  Donald’s Roberts 434 Under Construction A Mississipi Dreamer

  • 7:08 pm
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