Hello everyone, everywhere,
Musically speaking, this week has been very very good. Everybody seems happy and very calm. It’s a wonderful environment again and I’m very glad to be there. That’s enough of that.
Now on to where the sun went. It’s sure been cloudy lately, but I like it when it’s grey because that’s when I write.
After I wrote this week’s piece I told Michelle that I had an eery feeling, and two days later someone was killed doing this kind of job. But it’s a good piece so I’m giving this one to everyone who has to work midnights. Midnights are tough no matter what you are doing, but those poor people in the stores…it’s just not right that you can’t just go to work and do the damn job. It’s hard enough to get through the night without having to worry about losing your life.
And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest.
THE MIDNIGHT MAN
At ten o’clock every night, the alarm destroys the midnight man’s dreams. He rises slowly–same walls, same view, though the view is obscured by incandescent light and by one window tortured by years of wind and dust.
He shuffles slowly so as not to get too close to a reflection. The midnight man needs no reminders that he’s getting older. It could happen to anyone. One day you are this, and then, as fast as a star catches your eye, this is over. Now only left with then.
Alone, unkempt, a few minutes to clean up and show up. Need to hear music. Radio’s broken. Don’t care much for TV. Can’t turn it off.
Things certainly have changed. What things? Everything.
The midnight man stands in the night, outside of his existence, head down, eyes closed. His only wish for this shift–the same as the others–is to come home alive.
(NEVER EVER GIVE UP).