Every day, every day I have the blues
Ooh, every day, every day I have the blues
When you see me worryin’ baby, yeah it’s you I hate to lose
Whoa, nobody loves me, nobody seems to care
Whoa, nobody loves me, nobody seems to care
Well, worries and trouble, darling, babe you know I’ve had my share
Every day, every day, every day, every day
Every day, every day I have the blues
When you see me worryin’ baby, yeah it’s you I hate to lose
Whoa, nobody loves me, nobody seems to care
Whoa, nobody loves me, nobody seems to care
Well, worries and trouble, darling, babe you know I’ve had my share
I’m gonna pack my suitcase, move on down the line
I’m gonna pack my suitcase, move on down the line
’cause there ain’t nobody worryin’, and there ain’t nobody cryin’
– “Every Day I Have the Blues” – BB King
Years ago when there were still record stores (ask your parents, kids) I went back to my local store to return a Grammy- Award-winning blues CD by Keb Mo’. The people behind the counter asked me why I was returning it.
“He wasn’t depressed enough,” I explained.
They laughed in surprise.
There were none of the typical themes of the blues: there no floods or famines, no one was cheating on anybody, no one was getting drunk on corn liquor, there were no cuttings or shootings, and no one leaving on a train as their significant other watched them go.
“Seriously,” I continued. “ He’s young, successful, got a great wife, loves his kids… It depressed the hell outta me.“ I found it soul-crushing to encounter someone so together, especially in contrast to my own life.
I got my money back.
Another piece that could well serve as an introduction to the whole series of stories that start with “Freddy Wood’s Market” and conclude with “No Place I Want To Be.” In short space it catches the same precarious edge between tragedy and comedy; the reader is left, as so many times, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.