Some Things, More Than Others

She can’t remember what it is he used to sing, but she remembers that she always sang along.  Even now, almost five decades later, she remembers rocking so hard that she fell off a wall, singing so long in the shower that she was chronically late for work, and singing so loud that she almost got herself arrested for disturbing the peace.

She remembers that it was sometime in the mid-‘60s and there was precious little peace to go around, though everyone was hoping for it, and singing about it or marching for it, and some of them were actually dying for it, all to no avail.

She remembers that he used to keep some good stuff in his guitar case, and she remembers helping him unpack it from time to time, but she can’t really remember ever getting past the steely sheet music and all the high-strung lyrics.

Back then, mornings were afternoon and every day was cigarettes and magazines.

After a while, she remembers, the sun would go down and everything would always get really quiet until the lights came up and he was on, and onstage, and singing.

3 thoughts on “Some Things, More Than Others

  1. That was a strange age. I kinda missed out on the hippy/rock music/flowerpower scene, as I was too occupied with home-building and child-rearing. It all seemed a bit other-world to me at the time.

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