Wednesday, October 22, 2014

All the Papers Lie Tonight

...Is The News of the Day

The car screeches in the snowy streets.

You breath out, see the warm cloud rise up and dissipate.

The car moves off. Somewhere.

Everyone going somewhere.

And then the streets are empty again. The cloudless night sky twinkles with a few stars.

Not enough stars to matter, but a few.

And as you look up you wonder if you can build on them, stack the stars together and make a structure. A simple machine that can reach you back to the stars.

And you turn, marveling at the smell of the fresh snow and the cold air.

And the lack of people and animals.

It's just you. And an impossibly empty section of the city. And your memories.

Just the way you like it.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme (Etc.)

This song was stuck in my head all day today.

Perhaps because the addiction to drama doesn't seem to end when people get out of their teens.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Wait, There Was a Video For That?

Apparently so.



No Difford, Tilbrook, or Neil Innes though...

Too bad.

Friday, September 26, 2014

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Laser-Etched History Repeats

Late-September rerun from 2009.

I remember the scar.

I wake up in the middle of the night. Burning with memory of texture, the feel, the way the years softened the color.

It takes a few minutes to realize I'm here and now, not there and then.


In the darkness, I remember.

It was just below her knee. She never explained it, never told me the childhood injury that caused it. It was just there. And whenever I'd touch it or kiss it, she'd pull back. So willing in other ways, so shy about the scar.

And if the scar was protected, the cause of the scar was walled-in, completely off-limits. And therefore endlessly fascinating.

She'd been to New Zealand. At a time when people just didn't go to New Zealand. And she loved Split Enz, whom she'd seen in New Zealand.

And she loved her copy of True Colors, the album that had images etched onto the vinyl with lasers. As a result, when light hit the spinning record, laser images of different shapes danced around the room. So we'd listen to the album at night, watch the shapes on the walls, and talk about everything.

Except the scar.

Years later, the CD still sounds good. The perfect pop songs are there. But there's no laser-etched shapes to dance around the room.

And she's gone, too. Took the scar and her secrets and went far away.

But late at night, when the moon reflects off something shiny, I watch colored shapes dance around the room. And I remember the record, remember her.

And, most of all, I remember the scar.

Monday, September 8, 2014

It's Late September and I Really Should Be Back At School

You Stole My Soul and That's a Pain I Can Do Without...

Most of the year, this song bugs me.

But for a week or two after Labor Day every year, I'll hear this song... and be struck by the sense of melancholy and loss. And the painful realization the poor sap in this song would do it all again...