Back to Music & Part 2 of the "Trilogy"

 #17 All I Know – Art Garfunkel 1973

I said these posts would comprise something of a trilogy, so today is the second installation of that trilogy. Some of you already know this story, so you’ll recognize that I’m leave a lot out. When we last left our young lovers, the dashing Marine had returned to Camp Lejeune to prepare to “cruise” the Mediterranean with his Force Recon unit. I had already planned to take about a week’s leave after he Key West, as it was the July 4th holiday, and I went back to Iowa. Everyone I saw, it seemed, was a couple. My brother-in-law had brought some fireworks, but I pretty much kept to myself. When I returned to Key West, I started a letter to the Food Guy, and we wrote often, back and forth. Not too long after that, I learned they had “cut my billet,” that is, eliminated my position, as a non-commissioned officer in the Key West Air Station public affairs office, and while I had several options, I really didn’t care where I went, so I chose Orlando Naval Recruit Training Center.

Around that same time Art Garfunkel released his first solo album, Angel Clare, after some movie acting (Catch-22 in 1970 and Carnal Knowledge in 1971) and a benefit concert for presidential candidate George McGovern in 1972. He reprises a couple Simon and Garfunkel songs (“Bridge Over Troubled Waters” was one), and there was “All I Know.”

About this time, I started to date one of the recruit company commanders (the Army would call him a drill sergeant). Things might have been developing toward a relationship, but – back in the U.S. and about to resign his commission – the Food Guy was making a mad dash down to southern Florida to inject some cash into a sailboat venture he and his two former Marine roommates from North Carolina had bought. We had a falling out recently, and I was incredibly angry with him. He phoned me from a rest stop on the freeway and claimed he just needed a place to shower and rest, as he’d been driving all night. I managed to pass my apartment key to him without seeing him because I was so busy that morning but went around to see him for lunch. By the time he headed back out on the road, I wasn’t angry with him anymore. I’ll just leave it at that, but you did see that photo in last week's post, right? Those dimples?

I bruise you

You bruise me

We both bruise too easily

Too easily to let it show

I love you and that's all I know

“All I Know” is a Jimmy Webb (see “Wichita Lineman”) composition. Garfunkel sings to the accompaniment of a piano, backed by the ever-present Wrecking Crew (“Bridge Over Troubled Water” and “Wichita Lineman”). Garfunkel’s tenor glides over the words, making it sound hymn-like. The falsetto he made famous with Simon and Garfunkel sounds plaintive as he sings, “Let the song go on.”

The Food Guy and his buddies were off to cruise the Caribbean, no women allowed on board (he said), and who knows when they’d return. I still had the better part of three years to serve

in the Navy, even if I didn’t re-enlist. I needed to get on with my life. The recruit company commander was very insistent. We got a place together. I was still writing to the Food Guy, but if the relationship with – let’s call him Larry (because that’s his name) – was going to continue, I needed to end all ties with the Food Guy. I was never good at juggling men. So, I wrote a “Dear Food Guy” letter. Larry and I made plans to marry. I get a letter back from the Food Guy that says he never expected to get a “Dear John” letter from me. It ends that he’s always loved me. I was so angry that I threw his letter in a drawer and meant to forget him. A month into our marriage, Larry and I were already having problems.

All my plans

Have fallen through

All my plans depend on you

Depend on you to help them grow

I love you and that's all I know

When the singer's gone

Let the song go on

But the ending always comes at last

Endings always come too fast

They come too fast

But they pass too slow

I love you and that's all I know

When the singer's gone

Let the song go on

It's a fine line between the darkness and the dawn

They say in the darkest night, there's a light beyond

I was determined to work on my marriage. Larry got orders for Naval Air Station Oceana,

Virginia. I discovered I was pregnant.  If I had tried a little harder, I might have stayed in the Navy, but the Navy wasn’t making it easy. So, we moved to Virginia in the dead of winter, with me 5 months pregnant, and Larry getting ready to go on an 8-month Mediterranean cruise. He went on two cruises. He was at sea when John was born. He flew back the day after his birth and was able to stay for three days. He didn’t come back until John was 8 months old. He retired from the Navy and we moved to Arkansas. I was pregnant again. I told a moving company guy that I was never moving again because every time we did, I had a baby. I think he thought I really believed that.

Money was tight. Larry worked his butt off. We went back to college on the (old) G I Bill. We moved to Conway (from Heber Springs), Arkansas, after we wrecked two cars commuting to school. We kept drifting apart, and once in a while, I would think about that handsome Marine who I had loved with all my heart, who gave me the “greatest peace I’ve ever known.” 

Larry asked me for a divorce in the late 90s.

But the ending always comes at last

Endings always come too fast

They come too fast

But they pass too slow

I love you and that's all I know

That's all I know

That's all I know

Spotify: All I Know - Art Garfunkel