The Ballad of Curtis Loew

My very own, very favorite bike mechanic

Ok so being home with my man is pretty great too.

Take this scene, out my kitchen window, as a case in point: there he is, working on my mountain bike.

What you can't hear, is his soundtrack -- it's this song:

Well I used to wake the morning before the rooster crowed
Searching for soda bottles to get myself some dough
Brought 'em down to the corner, down to the country store
Cash 'em in and give my money to a man named Curtis Loew

Old Curt was a black man with white curly hair
When he had a fifth of wine he did not have a care
He used to own an old dobro, used to play it across his knee
I'd give old Curt my money, he'd play all day for me

I wasn't familiar with the song, and when I asked him about it, he got all choked up and teary telling me the story the lyrics tell:

Play me a song Curtis Loew, Curtis Loew
I got your drinking money, tune up your dobro
People said he was useless, them people are the fools
'Cause Curtis Loew was the finest picker to ever play the blues

He looked to be sixty, and maybe I was ten
Mama used to whip me but I'd go see him again
I'd clap my hands, stomp my feets, try to stay in time
He'd play me a song or two
Then take another drink of wine...

Yesiree. I love his acts of service. I love his taste in music. I love his heart. And I love being his woman.