Mick Jagger and Linda Ronstadt both did great versions of this rocking song.
…This low down bitchin’ got my poor feet a itchin’,
Don’t you know you know the duece is still wild.
Baby, I can’t stay, you got to roll me
And call me the tumblin’ dice.
Always in a hurry, I never stop to worry,
Don’t you see the time flashin’ by.
Honey, got no money,
I’m all sixes and sevens and nines.
Say now baby, I’m the rank outsider,
You can be my partner in crime.
But baby, I can’t stay,
You got to roll me and call me the tumblin’ dice
These lyrics have been running through my mind the last couple of days. That feeling of running, hiding my head in the sand, looking for a jolly holiday yet I can’t afford one. Most humans need and want stability. You know-this is me, this is who I am and where I am.
No, I don’t go there.
Climbing out of a barrel, digging out of a hole, pulling oneself up off the floor.
Hubby and I have to regroup and retrench. The man is my security. We made a big change this weekend. It was a hard one for me personally, but the necessity was absolute. It also hearkened back to a place and situation in my life where I lost control of my circumstances and was in an unavoidable emotional spiral. As these feelings surged through me I found myself sharing with Chuck a time in my life no one on this blue planet knew of except my father. I had buried the pain and shame of it deeply.
Now here I was, doing what was best, even though I felt totally responsible for the negative situation we found ourselves in and the old baggage floated to the surface. I controlled myself for the most part, giving in to the tears that fought painfully in my throat for release, and adulting my way through it.
I am better now, but this taught me a further lesson. The past is never truly buried. It can reach up and grab me, like the hand in the grave from the movie “Carrie” and scare the shit out of me, again.
Yep, the rank outsider; running and ducking, weaving and bobbing, headed for the Emerald City y’all.