Sound of Thunder

Btw the weather is very strange again, with a threat of thunderstorm in the air. Tomorrow is Friday, so I’ll call Beth for the latest. She might feel as helpless as I do. Time keeps slipping away. It has been six months since the fire and things are not happening. But I’m making the best of it. If I throw religion entirely out the window, I am within my rights and to hell with sunshine and gumdrops. We are supposed to be mature adults, not children with visions of sugar plums. Let the children have their own websites. America has a lot of potential if we just open our minds to the rest of the world. It is a big place, contrary to the annoying ditty about a small world. The 21st Century is a romantic prospect, a time of promise and history in the making. Americans can either rejoin with other countries around the world and flourish, or remain isolationist and go out with a whimper for our gross loss of sophistication.



I just had a lovely memory of walking across Hayward Field one summer morning at the age of twenty two. I was working part time for a psychology professor named Jake Beck. As I strolled under the azure sky, I heard internally the song “Second Sight” by Chick Corea. I worried that my phonographic memory was fading as a consequence of drinking too much. I dressed more formally in those days, actually caring about my appearance. I thought my whole life was ahead of me, full of potential for great things. It was before the initial episode of schizophrenia. I was really into jazz fusion. I believed there was a place for me in the local music community. I even aimed higher… but it was a fantasy in my mind, like the scent of fresh air under a cloudless sky on a summer morning thirty years in the past. Pride leads to a fall.