I first heard "If I Had A Boat" during the closing credits of the movie "Still Alice". It's a cover by Karen Elson and, for me, is just as touching if not more so than Lovett's original. Chokes me up every time.
May God's grace bring you comfort in your grieving.
Dear Matt, Thank you for sharing your correspondence relationship with Ray. I remember him in the comments. It made me sad because my Dad is gone now recently. I was the butt cleaner, the dong washer, the walker walker. It's hard because when that chest stops rising and the eyes glaze, dang it, I still have questions. When to start what seeds for the garden, computer stuff, my taxes! The thing about it is, when Be Still My Soul and other proper hymns are done, it's all so brand new, and we're just supposed to go about the business of daily living. I guess that's where the prayer fits, and the waiting. It's not the writing for me because his numerous letters to the editor over the years were too upsetting to read. My deep wound was trying to understand his culture war intersect with the faith we both share. More fully the church's complicity in this clown show barn burning administration, year of our Lord, 2025. Strangely enough, it's that palsied scrabble of his, on house and office notes , that hurts my chest most of all. That physical handwriting remainder is more important than any believer/political arguments we may or may not have had.
Anyway, sorry for the loss. Maybe I'll have to listen to some Warren Zevon or Fernando Ortega now. Nah, I'll just stick that Send in the Clowns back in my brain. I sang that for two days last week. Thanks a lot! Dave
I came to the page looking for your thoughts about the debacles of the past week, but that piece was worth so much more than anything having to do with such idiocy ever could. A beautiful tribute to a special friendship brought together in the fellowship of words. Makes me want to write more and longer letters, much more often. Thank you for this.
Mighty generous of you, Richard. I deeply appreciate it -- especially because I respect the hell out of your stuff. (Note to any commenters who see this, read Richard Rushfield over at The Ankler, one of the best in the business: https://theankler.com/s/richard-rushfield)
A well-deserved remembrance of Ray. I certainly recall his erudite comments. As for Lyle and his "boat song", I first heard it live in Atlanta in a smallish venue in 1985 when he opened for Bonnie Raitt. It was just Lyle, John Hagen on the cello and a conga player who I can't name. I've been a fan since and even got Hagen to play some cello on some cuts on my first Austin-produced CD. In February, the current wife and I went to Gruene Hall to hear Lyle do a live gig. Sadly, it was readily apparent that his 69-year-old voice was giving out. Time, indeed, does come for us all.
Have seen Lyle a few times live myself. Though (and I hope he's not reading), most of his good songs were written pre-2000. (It's hard work, being a timeless songwriter. I don't say that lightly. And I'm grateful for all he's given us, which is plenty.) But that's very cool that you put John Hagen on your record. He's the balls. Universal music truism: everything's better with a little cello on it.
I liked the Definitive sound. But the RSs became my children, so one doesn't give them up easily. My biggies played symphonic music well. But we moved and the size became a point of contention between my wife and I. Looking back, it all seems trivial. Sony headphones do a nice aural job (yeah, I know), which underscores the silliness of size and expense.
As I read your latest installment, I am reminded of another Ray. Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451:
"Everyone must leave something behind when he dies. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched in some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you're there.
"It doesn't matter what you do, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that's like you after you take your hands away. The difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching. The lawn-cutter might just as well not have been there at all; the gardener will be there a lifetime."
Yours and Ray Balestri's message gardens continue to touch us. Thank you.
Thank you, Matt. As someone who's been battling cancer for the second time in my 49 year old life, I found this piece particularly moving. Life's fragility is particularly real for me. And while I'd rather not be dealing with chemo and the like, I prize the richness, the tangible appreciation that comes when life's finitude is amplified. The beauty of life becomes like a smell that doesn't leave my nose. The little things I previously overlooked, I now savor.
No, thank you. That was lovely. And wish you all the best in your cancer battle. Just said a prayer for you, in fact, if you accept those. (And if you don't? Too late, already done.)
What a wonderful ode to a reader you didn't know - except that you did. May be rest in peace, and somehow be made aware of Trump's devoutly to be wished end.
Thanks for this. I'm forced to admit I do not, as a practice read most of the comments others have made in the past years. I am realizing that I may have been missing out, at least regarding Ray.
But that's kind of the point, isn't it? Life happens, until it doesn't. Our days are filled with last times, and lost times. I, and I suspect many of your readers, are at that time in our journeys when we can feel a sense of impending conclusion, and--at least I--steer clear of falling into what can be a maudlin and depressing fatalism. It seems Ray might have approached this on the opposite tack. I shall try to do the same.
And as for the criminally unappreciated Lyle Lovett, what a perfect choice. I had expected other song links, maybe one of Buffett's better nautically themed ballads, but this was far better. I'm going to dig out some Lovett CDs tonight, cocktail time.
Thanks, Frank. Yeah, there's some pretty talented contributors on the comments roster, so I'm generally anti-comments in most contexts (I almost didn't include them when I started the site.) But it's kind of worth reading the comments around here sometimes. A lot of fine amateur writers in these parts. Ray himself was top-shelf. And you can't go wrong with Lovett on any album, I'd say, before "Road to Ensenada" (and including it). He had tons of keepers back then. Also did a double album of Texas-songwriters-he-loves covers in the late '90s called "Step Inside This House," which is also great.
Such a beautiful eulogy you've shared with us. I've been around these pages since 2022 as well and read every one of Ray's contributions (along with everyone else's) and I agreed with most, if not all, of what he wrote and never felt the need to comment since I could not add anything he did not already write. I regret not having engaged him now. He will be missed here.
Hi Matt, happy subscriber, started after your tribute to P.J. O’Rourke. Thought I’d share a version of Lyle’s song from a fave Canadian duo
https://youtu.be/waYSW6ACG48?si=05WZ0ddxXY7yaN3m
I'm so sorry about your friend. I have to agree with Ray, I'm for Steely Dan. I enjoyed Lyle. I haven't heard that song in awhile. Take care!
Not obviously related to this article, but this struck me as something beautiful enough to have been written by Matt back in the Weekly Standard days.
https://www.switchboardmagazine.com/march-issue/cajun-cowboys
My condolences on the loss of your friend.
I first heard "If I Had A Boat" during the closing credits of the movie "Still Alice". It's a cover by Karen Elson and, for me, is just as touching if not more so than Lovett's original. Chokes me up every time.
May God's grace bring you comfort in your grieving.
Dear Matt, Thank you for sharing your correspondence relationship with Ray. I remember him in the comments. It made me sad because my Dad is gone now recently. I was the butt cleaner, the dong washer, the walker walker. It's hard because when that chest stops rising and the eyes glaze, dang it, I still have questions. When to start what seeds for the garden, computer stuff, my taxes! The thing about it is, when Be Still My Soul and other proper hymns are done, it's all so brand new, and we're just supposed to go about the business of daily living. I guess that's where the prayer fits, and the waiting. It's not the writing for me because his numerous letters to the editor over the years were too upsetting to read. My deep wound was trying to understand his culture war intersect with the faith we both share. More fully the church's complicity in this clown show barn burning administration, year of our Lord, 2025. Strangely enough, it's that palsied scrabble of his, on house and office notes , that hurts my chest most of all. That physical handwriting remainder is more important than any believer/political arguments we may or may not have had.
Anyway, sorry for the loss. Maybe I'll have to listen to some Warren Zevon or Fernando Ortega now. Nah, I'll just stick that Send in the Clowns back in my brain. I sang that for two days last week. Thanks a lot! Dave
A Warren Zevon piece, since you mentioned it:
https://mattlabash.substack.com/p/enjoy-every-sandwich
At your best, Matt.
I came to the page looking for your thoughts about the debacles of the past week, but that piece was worth so much more than anything having to do with such idiocy ever could. A beautiful tribute to a special friendship brought together in the fellowship of words. Makes me want to write more and longer letters, much more often. Thank you for this.
Mighty generous of you, Richard. I deeply appreciate it -- especially because I respect the hell out of your stuff. (Note to any commenters who see this, read Richard Rushfield over at The Ankler, one of the best in the business: https://theankler.com/s/richard-rushfield)
A well-deserved remembrance of Ray. I certainly recall his erudite comments. As for Lyle and his "boat song", I first heard it live in Atlanta in a smallish venue in 1985 when he opened for Bonnie Raitt. It was just Lyle, John Hagen on the cello and a conga player who I can't name. I've been a fan since and even got Hagen to play some cello on some cuts on my first Austin-produced CD. In February, the current wife and I went to Gruene Hall to hear Lyle do a live gig. Sadly, it was readily apparent that his 69-year-old voice was giving out. Time, indeed, does come for us all.
Have seen Lyle a few times live myself. Though (and I hope he's not reading), most of his good songs were written pre-2000. (It's hard work, being a timeless songwriter. I don't say that lightly. And I'm grateful for all he's given us, which is plenty.) But that's very cool that you put John Hagen on your record. He's the balls. Universal music truism: everything's better with a little cello on it.
I liked the Definitive sound. But the RSs became my children, so one doesn't give them up easily. My biggies played symphonic music well. But we moved and the size became a point of contention between my wife and I. Looking back, it all seems trivial. Sony headphones do a nice aural job (yeah, I know), which underscores the silliness of size and expense.
No doubt Ray appreciated your suggestion and song choice!
He'd have probably preferred I played Bowie. He was a big fan.
As I read your latest installment, I am reminded of another Ray. Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451:
"Everyone must leave something behind when he dies. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched in some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you're there.
"It doesn't matter what you do, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that's like you after you take your hands away. The difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching. The lawn-cutter might just as well not have been there at all; the gardener will be there a lifetime."
Yours and Ray Balestri's message gardens continue to touch us. Thank you.
Wonderful deep cut, Terry. I read that book, and don't remember that passage, which is perfect, so thanks.
Thank you, Matt. As someone who's been battling cancer for the second time in my 49 year old life, I found this piece particularly moving. Life's fragility is particularly real for me. And while I'd rather not be dealing with chemo and the like, I prize the richness, the tangible appreciation that comes when life's finitude is amplified. The beauty of life becomes like a smell that doesn't leave my nose. The little things I previously overlooked, I now savor.
No, thank you. That was lovely. And wish you all the best in your cancer battle. Just said a prayer for you, in fact, if you accept those. (And if you don't? Too late, already done.)
What a wonderful ode to a reader you didn't know - except that you did. May be rest in peace, and somehow be made aware of Trump's devoutly to be wished end.
"He on his Pony, on his boat", sailing with fair winds and a following sea. Onward Ray, wherever time takes you.
You get it, brother.
Sorry to hear this Matt.
Thanks for this. I'm forced to admit I do not, as a practice read most of the comments others have made in the past years. I am realizing that I may have been missing out, at least regarding Ray.
But that's kind of the point, isn't it? Life happens, until it doesn't. Our days are filled with last times, and lost times. I, and I suspect many of your readers, are at that time in our journeys when we can feel a sense of impending conclusion, and--at least I--steer clear of falling into what can be a maudlin and depressing fatalism. It seems Ray might have approached this on the opposite tack. I shall try to do the same.
And as for the criminally unappreciated Lyle Lovett, what a perfect choice. I had expected other song links, maybe one of Buffett's better nautically themed ballads, but this was far better. I'm going to dig out some Lovett CDs tonight, cocktail time.
Thanks, Frank. Yeah, there's some pretty talented contributors on the comments roster, so I'm generally anti-comments in most contexts (I almost didn't include them when I started the site.) But it's kind of worth reading the comments around here sometimes. A lot of fine amateur writers in these parts. Ray himself was top-shelf. And you can't go wrong with Lovett on any album, I'd say, before "Road to Ensenada" (and including it). He had tons of keepers back then. Also did a double album of Texas-songwriters-he-loves covers in the late '90s called "Step Inside This House," which is also great.
Such a beautiful eulogy you've shared with us. I've been around these pages since 2022 as well and read every one of Ray's contributions (along with everyone else's) and I agreed with most, if not all, of what he wrote and never felt the need to comment since I could not add anything he did not already write. I regret not having engaged him now. He will be missed here.
Thanks, William. Appreciate all of that.