When you're listening to music as you walk a crooked path, it looks a lot like dancing.....

The clocks changed; later became earlier in the blink of an eye.

And it put me in mind of all the early mornings I have ever known, or cared to file away in this strange, swiss-cheesed memory file.

Flashback to 1983....sitting in the living room of my apartment, furiously trying to complete a scene design project; there is a late night nationally syndicated radio program on the stereo. I can't remember the hosts name, but he was probably sitting in some studio in Manhattan, smoking his Winstons and pouring himself another cup of coffee.

He had an 800 number. I called it. If you know me, you know how loopy I can get going into my 26th hour. I was better at it when I was younger...I didn't get truly loopy until around the 36th hour. But I digress.

I called the number...and the guy answered. We talked a little about what kept me awake this late, where I was (Northern Michigan) and what the weather was like (freakin' cold and snowing) and what I was doing (painting). He asked me if I had a request.

I did. Play 'America' by Simon and Garfunkel.

He did. I laughed until I got watery around the eyes. I went onto the front porch and had a smoke, singing, "it took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw...."

Finished the project just in time to shower and get to class. The sun came up for the first time in many days.

Sunshine provides hope.

Flash forward sixteen years.....I'm flying down the Interstate from MI to CA, smoking like a chimney and tapping my hands wildly upon the steering wheel because I heard that it helps to keep you focused when you're exhausted.

Ironically, I'm three days out of Saginaw.

It's four am, and I'm passing cars outside of Vegas. The lights of the city can been seen for a hundred miles on a clear night, and this night is incredibly clear. The moon is Joe-Versus-The-Volcano HUGE.

In Your Eyes plays on the radio, and I'm dancing in my head with a girl long gone.

Flashback two years....the long gone girl is sleeping in my arms for the last time. When the sun comes up a few hours from now, she'll go out to the car and my last memory will be tail lights rounding the bend. It's raining, which is good; my reputation as a cynical hardass would be compromised by the tears.

I go into the ground floor student apartment that was made available to me, and the tape in the machine is playing, Leave Her, Johnny by Stan Rogers. I close the door and stare at the wall for several minutes, savoring the good moments and dreading the fact that this is the moment that I'm going to remember most.

And now it's time to say goodbye;
Leave her Johnny, Leave her.....

Flash forward from there to four years later.....I'm standing on top of a mountain in central Colorado; the sun is coming up and the show is opened and the review was kind and generous. King of the World, for just a moment.

The song going through my head at that time...Never The Luck from DROOD. The underdog comin' out on top...just for one night.

And here I am. Eleven years after that.

What's playing right now?

Solsbury Hill.

Grab your things, I've come to take you home.

Heh.