Warren Zevon was a gifted songwriter, singer, and musician.
You might recall two of his songs “Excitable Boy” and “Werewolves of London.” Each garnered attention, and yes, “Werewolves of London” has become a Halloween standard.
Through his songs, Mr. Zevon was a storyteller. His characters were from all walks of life. His lyrics captured all human emotions. At times, his words were not for the faint of heart.
I chuckle when I hear these lines from “Excitable Boy”:
“Well, he went down to dinner in his Sunday best. Excitable boy, they all said. And he rubbed the pot roast all over his chest. Excitable boy, they all said. Well, he’s just an excitable boy.”
And I chuckle more with “Werewolves of London”:
“He’s the hairy-handed gent who ran amuck in Kent.
Lately, he’s been overheard in Mayfair. You better stay away from him, he’ll rip your lungs out Jim. But hey, I’d like to meet his tailor.”
But the chuckling stops with “Carmelita”:
“ I hear Mariachi static on my radio. And the tubes they glow in the dark. And I’m there with her in Ensenada, and I’m here in Echo Park. Carmelita hold me tighter. I think I’m sinking down. And I’m all strung out on heroin, on the outskirts of town.”
Singer Linda Ronstadt respected Mr. Zevon’s song “Hasten Down The Wind” so much that she recorded it and used the song as the title to one of her albums.
The song will pinch your heart and moisten your eyes:
“She tells him she thinks she needs to be free. He tells her he doesn’t understand. She takes his hand. She tells him nothing’s working out the way they planned. She’s so many women, he can’t find the one who was his friend. So he’s hanging on to half her heart. He can’t have the restless part. So he tells her to hasten down the wind.”
Even in 1978, America had challenges with lawyers, guns, and money. This song of the same title notes how risk and luck don’t always complement each other:
“I was gambling in Havana. I took a little risk. Send lawyers, guns and money, Dad, get me out of this. I’m the innocent bystander. Somehow, I got stuck, between the rock and the hard place, and I’m down on my luck.”
At times, maybe in each of us, we have a desire to be left alone, isolated from the world. In “Splendid Isolation” Mr. Zevon wrote:
“I want to live alone in the desert. I want to be like Georgia O’Keefe. I want to live on the Upper East Side, and never go down in the street. Splendid Isolation, I don’t need no one.”
Clearly, those characters envisioned in Mr. Zevon’s lyrics are thousands of miles and years away from the people Jesus encountered during his life.
Yet, I sense there might be some similarities.
How might the Demoniac compare to the “Excitable Boy” or the “Werewolves of London”?
Does the son in “Lawyers, Guns, and Money” have any connection to the Prodigal Son? Each son is looking to be saved and ultimately forgiven by their fathers.
What does the Leper have in common with the man addicted to heroin in “Carmelita”? Each is impacted by the circumstances of their health. Each needs an intervention. In their situations, both men are seen as outcasts.
In “Hasten Down The Wind” might that have been a conversation between Mary and Joseph as they tried to sort out the complications of God’s unexpected intrusion? Or, maybe this matches with the woman at the well, whose relationships with men haven’t been successful.
And for “Splendid Isolation” how many times in Jesus’ ministry did he truly need time to be alone? Did he reach his limit with the masses of followers and individuals who needed just a touch of his clothing to change the circumstances of their lives? In those moments, perhaps Jesus felt like embracing Mr. Zevon’s words: “I don’t need no one.”
By now, you must be thinking poor Bill. He has really gone off the deep end this time— comparing Warren Zevon’s characters to the people that Jesus encountered during his lifetime.
Well, maybe I have.
But, the bottom line is that both Jesus and Mr. Zevon were remarkable storytellers. More importantly, these characters, these people, no matter when or where they lived provide us an opportunity to learn from their challenges in life.
And to tell you the truth, at the age of 71, I’m not sure I’m any closer to truly understanding the challenges in the Easter story.
Maybe that’s because the world has become more complicated.
Or has the redundancy of the Easter story diminished my curiosity?
Could it be that I’m a shallow Christian, reluctant to dig deeper to break the predictability of Easter?
Maybe, I’m part of Romans 5 verse 6: “You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.”
Yes, Jesus knows my old sack of bones. He has a file on my ungodly ways.
And, despite my “ungodly” confession, I still hold on to the hope that Easter offers. For me, that hope is tied to love.
On September 7, 2003, Warren Zevon lost his battle with inoperable lung cancer. Diagnosed in 2002, Mr. Zevon spent those miserable declining months recording his final album.
The last song on the album is titled “Keep Me In Your Heart.” Simply, this is Mr. Zevon’s way of saying goodbye to his family and friends.
Always insightful with his lyrics, here is the opening of the song:
“Shadows are falling and I’m running out of breath, keep me in your heart for awhile.
If I leave you it doesn’t mean I love you any less, keep me in your heart for awhile.
When you get up in the morning and you see that crazy sun, keep me in your heart for awhile.
There’s a train leaving nightly called when all is said and done, keep me in your heart for awhile.”
Despite the ups and downs that Mr. Zevon experienced in living his life, I think in the end his song “Keep Me In Your Heart” was his way of acknowledging the importance and value of love.
With Easter, isn’t that what our take away should be?
Isn’t that what Jesus needs from us?
That we keep him in our hearts.
That we share his love with the people we encounter everyday.
Isn’t that what Jesus did when he encountered people?
No matter their status or circumstances, he loved, he kept them in his heart.
“When all is said and done,” is that too much to ask of my heart?
might be baloney 