I listened to the Katrina and the Waves song, Walking On Sunshine the other day.
I loved that song when it came out. And yet, when I listened to the lyrics this time, I laughed out loud.
Here was a girl in love who said,
“Now every time I go for the mailbox, gotta hold myself down/ ’Cause I just can’t wait til you write me you’re coming around.”
Remember waiting to hear from people…for days?!
No email. No texts. No video calls. No (save me from) voice notes?
For people younger than me, this must feel like me being a teenager and puzzling over Cole Porter’s, “When folks who still can ride in jitneys/Find out Vanderbilts and WhitneysLack baby clothes/Anything goes.”
Like something from another world.
It was a reminder that things have always been changing.
Move Closer
We’re in a moment of churn, of turmoil, and the noise is only getting louder.
This might be a time where less really is more. When craft is rare. Where soul matters.
I’m going to write, here, when I have something to say.
I’m going to write slowly. I’m probably going to write a lot. There will be complex sentences with tangents and diversions and too many clauses.
And I will try to help you remember that there was a time before this. There will be a time after this.
But this is our moment, and, to paraphrase Ira Gershwin, they can’t take that away from us.