Every half-week, I remember what beloved First Stage Theatre Academy Director Ron said to or in regard to a deflated theatre student who wouldn't be able to take classes that particular summer: "Sometimes doing Theatre Academy means not doing Theatre Academy."
Sometimes, your absence is action.
This one keeps making moves. It's all action, now, 37 years later, without the pleader and the leader of the song.
And, sometimes, writing here means not writing here, but going outside for a walk. I need that too.
I've sort of kept this one to myself during all these years (semi-years, okay) of this thing here, and that's on purpose. It's a talisman, and I know I've said there are others, and there are, but this is a real one.
It's not to play on a computer, in close quarters.
I waited until I was outside and could see the sky to hear this yesterday. It was the first thing I heard today, on the radio in the kitchen, tuned to music in the morning because there's not really another way to start out these days.
It doesn't have a lot of words, but every word matters. And the space between the words, I have to believe, is deliberate.
Well I started out [ ] down a dirty road
Started out [ ] all alone
And here I am again, trying to summon emotion to grasp the un-graspable, when someone leaves when it's just utterly not the time (in fact, here this is just a week ago), and trying to fill the space with...something.
Another loss. My age, my experiences, some of them, anyway.
I always dug this track more than their name-maker. This second single is just as lush, but tinged with loss.
I think Mike taped this one for me. On side two was something dissimilar, like Big Audio Dynamite. Or maybe that's not so different. It sounds like summer to me, the end of that first free summer of mine in 1991. It sounds like the distant blue line of lake and sky I'd stare at day after day, as much as I could.
