decades
Nearing fifty, I'm thinking about decades. Today (with a perfect wife and two kids), I wrapped a beautiful, restrained recording for one of my favorite singers, and begin in earnest on another recording for another great singer I've been out of touch with for a while.
Ten years ago (married, childless), I was reeling from an ugly botch that stained my final moments at the church I grew up in.
Ten years before that (unmarried, virgin), I wrapped a recording of "The Dream of Skip," an absurdly complex church youth musical, attacked by some and championed by others (including a spirited and superb music minister) and nailed by the church youth choir.
Ten years before that, I was in college, living with a hilarious and deep roommate who became a lifelong friend, and beginning to date my first girlfriend.
Ten years before that, I was plowing through 4th grade with a not-good-enough teacher, and living for Sundays, Wednesday nights, afternoons with a best friend, and piano.
Ten years before that, I was in my mother's womb, forming some cells that would become cancer, and other cells that would become an unusual brain and a nimble body.
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Ten years before that, my dad was in college and my mom was in high school and they hadn't met.
Ten years before that, my dad's family was freshly broken, and my mom was months away from being part of a vast polio epidemic.
Ten years before that, my dad was one, and my mom wasn't born.
Ten years ago (married, childless), I was reeling from an ugly botch that stained my final moments at the church I grew up in.
Ten years before that (unmarried, virgin), I wrapped a recording of "The Dream of Skip," an absurdly complex church youth musical, attacked by some and championed by others (including a spirited and superb music minister) and nailed by the church youth choir.
Ten years before that, I was in college, living with a hilarious and deep roommate who became a lifelong friend, and beginning to date my first girlfriend.
Ten years before that, I was plowing through 4th grade with a not-good-enough teacher, and living for Sundays, Wednesday nights, afternoons with a best friend, and piano.
Ten years before that, I was in my mother's womb, forming some cells that would become cancer, and other cells that would become an unusual brain and a nimble body.
-----------------
Ten years before that, my dad was in college and my mom was in high school and they hadn't met.
Ten years before that, my dad's family was freshly broken, and my mom was months away from being part of a vast polio epidemic.
Ten years before that, my dad was one, and my mom wasn't born.
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