Demo: "Wooden Town" (Mac Charles) (Patreon)

As many of you know either from FB or the newsletter, I am celebrating the life -- and grieving the loss -- of Mac Charles, a dear friend and fellow musician who died last month from pancreatic cancer. That's him in the middle of that selfie from our February visit, with me and his best friend, Dan, who happens to be one of my best friends, too. We called ourselves The Pod, and though we tightened up specifically to help Mac, we ended up relying quite heavily on one another, especially this past year --  for mindfulness reminders, for laughter, for regular everyday gripes and questions and expressions of wonder; for navigating the business of wrapping up a life, for spiritual inquiry, for stupid or heartwarming internet memes, for music and story, and for the mysterious last long mile, however that would unfold, and for however long.

I had the good fortune to travel to Oregon last month to be with Mac in his final days. I am still processing the experience -- the privilege of it, the sadness and silliness of it, the mystery of it. I arrived back in Mass. on August 12; Mac died August 13. I haven't quite pulled out of the spin yet and since it's not in my nature to fight such things, I'll share a little dose of Mac-in-my-heart with you. This is where I am.

Last year, couple months after the cancer was confirmed, Mac asked for a favor. "A dying wish, as it were," is how he framed it, which lent the request considerable urgency because we still didn't have a sense of how much time there might be. He said, "I'd love to hear what you'd do with one of my songs. Just a little recording. Nobody has to hear it but me."

Now, Mac had HUNDREDS of songs. Hundreds. But I knew instantly which one I wanted to try. "Wooden Town" was one of the first songs I ever heard him play, from the late 1990s when he was in a jangly folk-pop project with my then-boyfriend Dave (Dave #2 for those keeping track). I'd wanted to play the song for the Friends & Family livestream and requested the chart a month or so prior. "That old nugget?" he said, but sent the chords anyway, which I tried diligently to learn but ultimately couldn't get my hands around in time for the broadcast.

Comes a dying wish, however, and a girl gets busy. If I couldn't play it live, I certainly could sit down and chip away at a recording. And that's how my version of "Wooden Town" came to be.

When I emailed it to Mac, he wept. His told me his songs had only been covered four times and he considered it the highest honor a writer could experience. But also, he wept because this version hit him differently. 

"I have never heard 'Wooden Town' take on this much meaning," he wrote. "In all this time with me, it always felt like it was a bit unfinished and the lyrics not quite making sense......in your hands, in this version.......it feels correct now.....somehow makes the sense it always set out to make."

Now, I'll be honest. There remain bits of this song that don't make sense to me. There is some family history with lumber mills. That surely plays a role here but I don't know what movie he was seeing in his head as he jotted this one down. The best we can do, then, and the secret to making a good cover, is to sing it from the place in the song that nods to the Truth in you. Bonus points if you land on the verse that's most true for the writer, too --

If there's a garden in your heartIt's a shame you couldn't lead me thereBut you wouldn't if you're smartTo preserve the peace and weather fairI live in a wooden town...

Dan visited Mac the morning I flew home. He set his phone on Mac's chest and played "Wooden Town" for him as he drifted in and out. "A good moment," Dan texted later. "Long live the Pod."

Long live the Pod indeed.

Thank you for reading, listening, and supporting. It's a joy to share the journey with you.Love and blessings on us all. xotg