Ever try to write something and the music in your head won’t stop? My problem this morning must be like those folks who can’t sleep because their brains are moving a mile a minute and won’t shut down. I don't have the sleeping problem -- I don’t give myself that much credit for smarts, being just a struggling troubadour of words in the blogosphere.
Today music-that-won't-stop is Buffalo Springfield, circa 1967. They sang of women and questions. Funny how the same topics resonate in guys’ heads century after century. Must be because they’re both unsolvable mysteries... How uplifting to hear the fellas of B. Springfield talk about freedom, of both the mind and the emotions swirling within. Picturing them in an old studio crunching through songs and demo tapes reminds me of how Mrs. TMM and I have been planning our move; we huddle round the plans and dreams, then just pull something together and say it’s gonna work, no problem!
Analogies run rampant this morning. Seeing the power lines is analogous to the clutter of my DC life, noise and distractions that I hope get buried underground next month. Sure, there will be different problems and things to gripe about, but maybe that’s the ebb-and-flow of it all, what keeps us in the game. Bang the bell and give me something new to get energized about!
Just saw a small sailboat calmly tacking upstream along the Potomac river, near Reagan National Airport. A pretty sight and a fitting exclamation point to this post…
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