Song Lyric Sunday — Life’s Been Good

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For this week’s Song Lyric Sunday challenge, Jim Adams has asked us to find a song that was written or performed by someone who was born in the month of November.

The artist I am going with was born on November 20, 1947. He is an American guitarist, singer, and songwriter best known for his work with the Eagles, the James Gang, and his own solo career. He helped shape classic rock through songs such as “Funk #49,” “Rocky Mountain Way,” and “Life’s Been Good,” as well as his guitar work on “Hotel California.”

Of course, I am talking about Joe Walsh. Walsh first became widely known with The James Gang, the rock trio in the late 1960s and early 1970s. “Funk #49” and “Walk Away” showcased the muscular, riff-driven guitar playing that established his reputation.

Then he went solo and found success outside the group, notably with “Rocky Mountain Way.” His solo work also included “Life’s Been Good,” a humorous take on rock-star excess. More on that later.

Walsh joined the Eagles in 1975, replacing founding member Bernie Leadon. His harder-edged rock background broadened the group’s sound, and his guitar interplay with Don Felder became a defining feature of “Hotel California.” He was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame with the Eagles in 1998.

Walsh combines memorable guitar riffs with a playful, irreverent personality. His career bridges the heavier rock of the James Gang and the more polished songwriting and arrangements of the Eagles, making him much more than a guitarist who joined an already successful band. He had an established musical identity before joining the Eagles. His personal story also includes a long struggle with alcohol and drugs. He has been in recovery since 1994 and has described sobriety as essential to sustaining his life and career.

The song I am featuring is one of my favorite Joe Walsh songs. Although Walsh was already an Eagle when it came out, this was a solo release. It captured a particularly distinctive side of him: an accomplished rock musician who could participate in the superstar lifestyle while making himself and everything that went along with that lifestyle the punchline

“Life’s Been Good” was Walsh’s 1978 comic portrait of rock-star excess, and his biggest solo hit. Released on his solo album, But Seriously, Folks…, it reached number 12 on the Billboard Hot 100. Its central joke is that the narrator has everything money can buy but barely seems capable of managing his own life.

The song’s satire is delivered from inside the lifestyle it mocks. Walsh’s narrator casually describes unused mansions, wrecked hotel rooms, expensive cars, accountants, and adoring fans, as though these are perfectly ordinary problems. The humor comes from his deadpan delivery. He sounds simultaneously grateful, bewildered, self-important, and oblivious.

The refrain, “Life’s been good to me so far,” ties those contradictions together. In context, it feels like both genuine appreciation for extraordinary luck and an absurd understatement after the excesses he has described. That double meaning is what makes the song more interesting than a simple celebration of being rich.

The song draws on Walsh’s experiences and those of other rock musicians, but it isn’t a literal diary. Walsh has described parts of the story as “poetic license,” where things that happened within his circle become experiences of the song’s fictionalized narrator.

The famous Maserati verse is a good example. In a later explanation, Walsh said he did own a Maserati, but that the lost-license detail referred to losing his wallet, not necessarily having his driving privileges revoked. He also connected the verse’s broader inspiration to a friend’s spectacularly bad luck with sports cars. Thus, the song blends real rock-star behavior with exaggeration and carefully constructed jokes, pairing dry humor with a relaxed, loping rock groove and prominent guitar work.

Here are the lyrics to “Life’s Been Good.”

I have a mansion, forget the price
Ain't never been there, they tell me it's nice
I live in hotels, stare at the walls
I have accountants pay for it all

They say I'm crazy, but I have a good time
I'm just looking for clues at the scene of the crime
Life's been good to me so far

My Maserati does 1-85
I lost my license, now I don't drive
I have a limo, ride in the back
I lock the doors in case I'm attacked

I make hit records, my fans they can't wait
They write me letters, tell me I'm great
So I got me an office, "Gold" records on the wall
Just leave a message, maybe I'll call

Lucky I'm sane after all I've been through
Everybody say, "I'm cool." (He's cool)
I can't complain, but sometimes I still do
Life's been good to me so far

I go to parties, sometimes until four
It's hard to leave when you can't find the door
It's tough to handle this fortune and fame
Everybody's so different, I haven't changed

They say I'm lazy but it takes all my time
Everybody say, "Oh, yeah." (Oh, yeah)
I keep on goin', guess I'll never know why
Life's been good to me so far
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Uh oh, here comes a flock of wah-wahs
(Wah-wah, wah-wah...)

For those of you who want more Joe Walsh, here are two more of his songs. First “Funk #49,” and then “Rocky Mountain Way.”

FOWC With Fandango — Rink

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Welcome to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (U.S.).

Today’s word is “rink.”

Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.

Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Please check to confirm that your pingback is there. If not, please manually add your link in the comments.

And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. Show them some love.

Weekend Writing Prompt — The Dinner Party

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This post was written for Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt, where the challenge is to write a poem or a piece of prose in exactly 58 words using the word “convivial.”

The dinner party was a convivial affair, filled with laughter, wine, and lively conversation. The charming host insisted that every guest try his homemade stew.

At midnight, the host grinned, took everyone’s wallets, watches, and jewelry, and moved the bodies to the graves in the backyard.

He loved throwing parties, but cleaning up afterwards was a bit tiresome.

Image conjured using Leonardo.ai.

SoCS — What Lies Beneath the Mask?

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For this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, Linda G. Hill has given us the word “costume” and to use it way we would like.

On Halloween, we wear the faces we dare not show
A costume that disguises what we wear every other day
Some become the heroes they secretly wish to be
Others the monsters they fear lurk within their souls

A witch may conceal a woman yearning for power
A ghost may reveal someone who already feels invisible

Behind every mask lies a truth
A dream
Or a nightmare

And when the costume comes off at midnight
Which face is real
And which is the masquerade?

Image above conjured using Leonardo.ai. Image below made with Meme Maker.

FOWC With Fandango — Disappointment

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Welcome to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (U.S.).

Today’s word is “disappointment.”

Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.

Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Please check to confirm that your pingback is there. If not, please manually add your link in the comments.

And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. Show them some love.

Friday Fictioneers — The Final Quest

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Sir Edmund had fought a hundred battles, slain dragons, and rescued damsels. But he had never defeated time.

Now his helmet and sword sat on a lonely beach, the salt air humming stories lost to history. Next to them, a strange black mirror pulsed, displaying glimpses of a world he couldn’t imagine.

He’d crossed eight centuries, chasing the sorceress who’d cursed him with endless life. As the sun set, the magic mirror flickered; words appeared.

Your curse has been lifted.

Edmund smiled, eyes drifting shut. And just like that, he was gone, with only the tide to remember his name.

(100 words)

Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Jennifer Pendergast.

Fandango’s Flashback Friday — October 30

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This was originally posted on October 30, 2021.

SoCS — Kinky Boots

In the spirit of Halloween, this post was written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday, where Linda asks us to “find a word with the letters ‘boo’ in it or use ‘boo’ as is and base your post on it.

My bookie invited me to go to a Halloween bash out in the boondocks. He said there would be a lot of booze and babes. He said to think of it as a booty call. So I told him to book me for it.

When I got there, though, things seemed to boomerang. Most of the people at the party were aging baby boomers who were into kinky stuff. I saw one guy dressed like a boogeyman beating another guy with a bamboo stick. A woman was running around topless with the word “BOO” written on each boob. This party was not for me.

I searched for my bookmaker and when he saw me he yelled out, “Boom! You made it.”

“Yeah,” I said, “but I ain’t staying. This place is filled with old farts with strange fetishes. I’m not into the taboo games goings on here. Did you see the guy in the corner dressed like a baboon and masturbating? I’m outta here.”

“Listen to you,” my bookie said. “I thought you were a gambling man, but here you are with some bugaboo up your ass about a little bit of kink. Go on and leave before I give your ass the boot.”

“I will,” I said, “and I’m also going to reboot our situation and find myself someone else to make book for me.”

FOWC With Fandango — Momentary

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Welcome to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (U.S.).

Today’s word is “momentary.”

Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.

Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Please check to confirm that your pingback is there. If not, please manually add your link in the comments.

And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. Show them some love.

RXC — The Day Time Stood Still

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This post was written in response to Reena’s Xploration Challenge. This week’s RXC prompt number is #454, and Reena has given us the five phrases below and asked us to choose one more for our piece.

  • The mirage of momentum
  • The noise of necessary things
  • The hypnotism of hurried living
  • The cage of constant doing
  • The autopilot of urgency

Well, given my obsessive/compulsive nature, I am going for all five. Actually, it won’t be such a stretch for me because, during my working years, those phrases closely described my life.

Every morning, Thomas Whitaker woke at five, checked his emails, ate a blueberry muffin, swallowed his coffee, and raced toward another day filled with obligations.

At sixty-seven, the thought of retirement hadn’t occurred to him. His calendar overflowed with appointments, volunteer commitments, household projects, and endless errands. He called it being productive.

His wife, Eleanor, called it the mirage of momentum. “You’re always moving, Thomas,” she’d say, “but you’re never really going anywhere.”

He dismissed her concerns. There were bills to pay, things to be done, people to call. The noise of necessary things drowned out everything else.

Then Eleanor died. At her funeral, Thomas checked his watch three times. Afterward, he returned home, opened his laptop, and began organizing her belongings into spreadsheets.

Suddenly something extraordinary happened. Time literally stopped. Inside, clocks froze. Outside, birds hung motionless in the sky, while cars remained suspended at intersections.

Thomas panicked. He wandered through his silent house, discovering things he’d overlooked for decades, like Eleanor’s unfinished paintings, photographs of forgotten vacations, a handwritten letter tucked inside their wedding album.

He opened and read it. “Thomas, my darling, I hope someday you escape the hypnotism of hurried living and discover what you’ve been missing.”

He sat down, trembling. For the first time, he understood the cage of constant doing he’d constructed around himself. And then he wept until his tears ran dry.

Then, without warning, the clocks resumed ticking. Outside, birds resumed flight and traffic moved forward.

Thomas closed his laptop, turned off his smartphone, and walked into Eleanor’s neglected garden. He planted roses where she’d always wanted them as his neighbors watched and wondered whether grief had finally broken him.

But Thomas knew otherwise. He had finally escaped the autopilot of urgency, discovering something Eleanor had understood all along. Life wasn’t measured by how much you accomplished. It was measured by how much you noticed.

And by how deeply you loved.

Image conjured using Leonardo.ai.