After the deluge

Splashed stucco with a side of piñon.

We got 0.28 inch of rain yesterday in about 28 seconds, so, ’ray for us.

The deluge will not resolve our water issues, though it ended the struggles of at least one poor soul whose last known address was a washout down near Edith and Roy.

We stayed indoors where it couldn’t get us. Well, mostly.

Herself took her chances with an early run. I held out hope for a bike ride, and if I’d moved fast I could’ve had one, too.

But fast is not my speed. So instead of risking a good soaking I dithered, waffled, and procrastinated, and then finally tottered out for a short run and never even got my shoes damp, though at one point I was jogging up a sandy arroyo that feeds into that long flume ride downtown.

Then, later that afternoon, boom, down it came.

Noah shit

After the deluge? Nope. During.

Holy hell. Talk about an angry inch.

We just got that much rain between coffee and oatmeal. It sounded like the Bad Old Days, when I lived next to the railroad tracks in a series of shacks. That train just kept on thundering along.

We’d gotten just under 3 inches all year long until this morning.

I’ma go out on a very soggy limb and speculate that this may be a poor morning for the ol’ bikey ridey.

Probably be a good day to swim laps around the house, though.

R.I.P., David Lindley

David Lindley has taken his act on the road for the final time.

Damn, but that dude could play. And play anything with strings, with anyone who was up for it, according to his obit in The New York Times.

His collaborators included Jackson Browne, Bob Dylan, Dolly Parton, Warren Zevon, Ry Cooder, Iggy Pop, Graham Nash, and David Crosby. And that’s just the shortlist.

Writes Alex Williams:

Ever on the hunt for new sounds and textures, Mr. Lindley had “no idea” how many instruments he could play, as he told Acoustic Guitar magazine in 2000. But throughout his career he showed a knack for wringing emotion not only from the violin, mandolin, banjo, dulcimer and autoharp, but also from the Indian tanpura, the Middle Eastern oud and the Turkish saz.

That’s a dude you want on your album. He could probably play Celtic harp, rusty bedsprings or a chain-link fence if you needed it.

My people and me, we mostly knew Lindley from his work with Browne on albums like “For Everyman” and “Running on Empty.”

That first album was a who’s who of the musical world when it came out in 1973. Hear that raging piano in the background of “Red Neck Friend?” That would be Rockaday Johnnie, a.k.a. Elton John. Also in the mix on “For Everyman” — Crosby, Joni Mitchell, Sneaky Pete Kleinow, Jim Keltner, Don Henley, Glenn Frey, and Bonnie Raitt.

Our musical world is running a little closer to empty without Lindley, but that big band in the Next World just keeps on filling up.