Reportedly, even Strait initially questioned the word order. He called Bob DiPiero, one of the song’s writers, to ask about the verbiage. DiPiero credited the idea of the song to the movie, “Forrest Gump”. About half way through the movie, Forrest has a dialogue where he is talking about his girlfriend Jenny. He expressed it this way: “Jenny was gone, then all of a sudden, out of the blue clear sky, she was back.” The song carries the theme of how love is unfindable and then out of the blue, you find it.
Though not as memorable as the line: “My momma always said, “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get,” the concept of blue clear skies has merit.
Okay, so I’m a simple guy. I’ve had the good fortune of being surrounded by any number of people who routinely practice the concept of unconditional love with me. Somehow love seems like an unexplainable gift. The General loves me. My children and their spouses love me. My grandchildren even step that up a notch.
I remember my mother routinely told my brothers and me that no one would ever love us as much as she did. Of course, isn’t that’s the way it’s supposed to be? Love comes as a surprise out of the blue clear sky.
Yet, I’ve got to tell you, “I know too many people that live without the awareness of family support and connections”. The fact that they are estranged from family seems like the “new normal”. After all, how many years of therapy would it take to overcome the scar tissue associated with thoughts of what should have been, but wasn’t. How did we manage to somehow get all of that out of order? Instead of a sense of love, the result is more closely akin to a train wreck than a family celebration.
Now I’m the one that has gotten the cart before the horse. I started out to talk about my personal need for blue clear skies. I moved from that to the introduction of a topic that hurts my heart. I know too many people whose lives are devoid a sense of love from those who should be most loving.
The General and I were on a mission of mercy yesterday morning and needed to go into Austin. Seriously, could a quick trip into town be that big of a deal? Before you say “No”, remember the bottle neck in Oak Hill. I’m going to boycott going into town that direction. You can routinely count on it taking at least thirty minutes to get through a mile and a half. I simply don’t have that kind of time. Okay, so maybe I have the time, but I don’t have the patience. It makes me crazy!
Just before we got into Austin, the sky was anything other than “blue clear sky”. Actually, for most of the ride into town, the windshield wipers were activated to keep the window clear. It was difficult to see clearly. Consequently, I thought I’d test the premise that it is easier to drive in the rain wearing sunglasses than to do so without them. Ripley’s believe it or not, the concept has merit. It doesn’t turn the sky to blue clear skies, but it helps manage the glare of splashing water on the windshield.
When the General and I were in Louisiana and Mississippi last week, the skies were anything other than blue clear skies. The sound of the windshield wipers was too frequently our uninvited traveling companion.
I wondered more than once if the tiny little umbrellas the General and I had packed in our luggage would really help if we needed an umbrella. Fortunately, the cover of the parking garage at the hotels provided the protection we needed. We didn’t get soaked on our trip the way I did yesterday.
Our mission of mercy found us at Lupe Tortillas for breakfast tacos with a friend. As we were leaving the restaurant, the rain was pelting down on the parking lot. The General and our friend shared the General’s small umbrella. I opted to walk hurriedly toward the car. I wasn’t willing to risk running through the rain, but I was walking quickly.
Reaching the car, I pulled on the car door and it was locked. So why didn’t it automatically unlock when I grabbed the handle? In a state of wet confusion, I put my hand in my pocket to pull out the key. Would you believe it, the key in my pocket was the key to my truck? It was not the key to the General’s Lexus.
I was more than a little confused. I was also standing in rain and the General and our friend were slowing walking in my direction half a parking lot away. They seem oblivious to the concept that I was getting soaked. Out of nowhere, the sound of “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” ricocheted in my thought processes.
When the General and I first moved to Austin in the 1970s, we often took visitors to see the LBJ Ranch. Back then, you the tour was on a bus provided by the National Park Service. The driver served as the tour guide. Part of the tour was listening to the sound of “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head”. It was one of LBJ’s favorite songs.
Before we made it back home yesterday, the General and I both found ourselves in need of the shelter provided by her small umbrella. It kept her heads dry, but the rest of my clothing was pretty soaked.
Did I mention that I am ready for two consecutive days of blue clear sky?
All My Best!
Don