dance like astaire overseas

i’m on the halley’s comet loop. The Vermin appears to have lost interest, so i’m back in business. i’m running with my old pal michael penn. I think about what an odd life his must be. in an alternate universe, he would have been michael penn, singer/songwriter, and not just michael penn, sean penn’s brother (what? sean penn has a brother?) truth be told, these days i run mostly as an excuse to listen to music and observe people. it’s an hour of escaping the tedium of life, replacing it with the tedium of running. or in the words of The Prophet Pooh, tedium-pom, tedium-pom.

So, she says it’s time she goes
But wanted to be sure I know
She hopes we can be friends

michael sings his sad little songs while i run my sad little run. i think of that time in seattle when mo and i were standing outside the theater as he and the prophet aimee mann walked by. sign our tickets? we asked. she gave the I AM TOO BUSY FOR THIS CRAP look. he just looked like he wanted to be invisible. a shy guy forced to interact with people because that’s what musicians must do to make a living. i always liked that about him.

We said goodbe before hello
My secrets she will never know
And if I dig a hole to China
I’ll catch the first junk to SoHo

half an album later as i settle in to the run, i make the turn around the magic fountain, and there they are. a little girl wearing brightly colored butterfly wings is walking next to the rapids, hands held tightly by two women, i’m guessing mom and grandma. they guard her closely in an effort to protect her from a world that must be such a scary place when you’re trying to bring up a little kid. she seems unaffected by all of it, a puppy on a leash eager to leap into untold adventures. but first, she must learn to fly. i guess this is one of her lessons.

See, it was just too soon to tell
And looking for some parallel
Can be an endless game

i guess that’s true for all of us. as we leap off the rooftop, in the words of the prophet guy clark, hoping we can trust our cape and fly. we hold on to the hands of those near to us, hoping for a little support. just in case.  i suppose life sent this to me as i stand on the ledge looking down. a message from the cosmos for the millionth time that maybe things will be ok. stop worrying. just put on your wings and jump. or maybe it was just a kid with a leftover halloween costume. sometimes it’s hard to decipher uncle hal. oh, well. it was just another run.

What if I were Romeo in black jeans
What if I was Heathcliff, it’s no myth
Maybe she’s just looking for someone to dance with

About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
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