Old School

I’ve slept so fitfully for days, now, that I hardly make sense in my own mind. My feet shuffle in a stumbling gait from box to cabinet, drawer to bin, home to car as the final push is on me. Nearly done, I keep telling myself. Just a little more…

Tuesday another pod arrives to hold the things I’ll want first when I finally have a home again., And later some young fellows from Craigslist to load it all for me. Early in the day I have another interview – a phone call as driving 2.5 hrs would not work. That night and Wednesday I will prop up my feet in a strange place, returning here for the pods to be retrieved and sent off to their holding place. Then, Thursday, I am off to Houston to stay with my brother and SIL. It will be a lovely respite, I have to admit. A very nice home, essentially the entire upstairs a guest wing, and some time to just think. I will probably avail myself of something stout to aid in sleep and try to catch up while in a safe haven.

Last night it was time to burn all the old files, papers, and remnants of a life so long gone, now. It was too easy to review the pages before they fell into the flames – I had to force myself to let it all go. Just let the past go – this is not my strong suit. In the end it was a lightening of the burden…but I sent it off with a serenade of youthful songs. I’d forgotten so much of that soundtrack – hell, I hardly remember the years at all if I am honest. The music brings back some memories.

 there’s a lady over there, she’s acting pretty cool
But when it comes to playin’ life, she always plays the fool

It is interesting to think of how competent I was then. So young and yet quite accomplished, considering. 1978 was a very interesting year…it was the start of the rocket to hell. I always loved Keith Moon in this – his animated performance so much of the madman that he was. And one of the last. I think it is funny how so many of my favorite songs feature amazing drum lines. Never went for the singers…always the drummers.

And then, a decade on, the slow dance in a lonely room…

Your love is cradled in knowing
Eyes in the mirror still expecting their prey
Sensing too well when the journey is done
There is no turning back
No
There is no turning back

And after a time a movement like a symphony piece that spun all out of control. Crash and burn, pick up the pieces – again – only to wind up here – again.

He wanted to believe
In the hands of love

And these days? Is there a song of Now? No. No, there has been no leisure for it. I couldn’t tell you a single song of the last year. Rather, it is the sound of destruction. And flames. And the howling of wild things giving birth to Unknowns.

Slowly, slowly…

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