Friday, February 23, 2007

Rosanne Cash update

Rosanne Cash October 2005 - Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, San Francisco (Photo: Ron Baker)

Mentioning Rosanne Cash in that last post reminded me I hadn't visited her Web site in a while.

She does a more-or-less monthly column there. For those who may not be aware, she writes stories as well as songs, and she's a good prose writer, too. Here's an excerpt from her column of
Feb. 12 (she refers to herself online as "Mrs. L"; she's married to John Leventhal):

The only bad thing about time off is that it gives me too much time to think about the state of the world. I wake in the night and wonder if Greenland is going to stay frozen through the decade, and if not, will a rowboat suffice to get me out of Manhattan? Seriously, I have been religious about turning off lights, recycling and walking rather than taking taxis. I also offset all these jet flights by donating to carbon neutral organizations. ( is a good one). I only use hybrid car services (Ozo here in NYC, and Eco-limo in Los Angeles) and I'm becoming more concious about consumption, in general. I think that too much material consumption affects the spirit like gluttony affects the body--- it makes you sluggish and thick and weighed down. My father had a great saying, which he got from a very elderly woman in the Deep South who owned an antique store he liked to visit. She would say (and then HE would say), 'Honey, every possession is just a stick to beat yourself with'. I've thought about that saying a lot. I think they meant that too many possessions carried too much responsibility, too much space was given up to them, too much energy wasted in acquiring and maintaining them. Of course, neither the old lady or my father followed the line of thinking to its natural conclusion by living a spartan life. My father was a bit of a pack rat, and he had a house stuffed with furniture and rugsandchina and linens and paintings and books. And so do I. But I am moving in the direction of doing some space clearing. (I hope Mr. L reads this column; he will be beside himself with joy.) I'll start by clearing out the newspaper clippings from the 80's and work my way up to the Manolos. I'll let you know how it goes.
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