All The Children Won't Sing

I woke up this morning and started jotting down some ideas for this next story. And it's a good idea and in a strange way I'm compelled to write it but I won't. Because all the while something was gnawing away at me and I realized that I don't want to forever ruin this song for me and especially for anyone else. So, at least for now, I need to let it go.

But here's what I wrote so far. Harmless fragments, really, but maybe you can decipher where I was heading with this piece and, therefore, understand why maybe its not such a good idea to continue:


All The Children Sing


We were all children once. Think of that.
Even that ugly little bastard that runs around here with those crazed eyes that never look at me. Surely there was a time when even he smiled and played happily with the other children. You know, innately pleased as hell to just be alive.


You know what? That ugly little bastard probably shot out of his mother’s womb ready to kill Americans. Does the hatred really run that deep? Is it in their genes by now?


A bell in your head will ring…

...and ring… and ring… and ring. When did it first start? Oh, in February of ’99, around Valentines Day as I recall. The ringing in my ears. Tinnitus the doctors called it. And at first it was terrifying, it was changing my life, ending it perhaps, or at least my way of life that I had grown accustomed to for almost forty years. Mainly, a silent one, at least when I so chose. But not now. Never again said one of the doctors, that son-of-a-bitch. I wept as I drove away from his office that afternoon. But what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, you somehow learn to adjust, and sooner than you might think you’ve pushed it to the back of your mind and once again you’re back to where you were. That's life baby... that's living!

And what causes that constant buzz. A sound very much like that electric hum right after you turn off a television. White noise. They say it’s caused by hearing loss and your brain has to compensate for that tiny void of sound. Lost decibels or whatever. But how dumb must our human brains truly be to compensate with that constant ugly buzz. Why not the sound of birds singing or the low tasteful moaning of a woman experiencing orgasm?

Stress makes it worse. And now my ears are humming and if I think about it and listen then I get overwhelmed by the rushing of this electric river.

All The Children Sing

April 18th... yet another birthday.

Been sick for a week but just started the anitbiotics yesterday. Feel better already.

So I don my daquiri ice button-down shirt for the occasion once more. I wear it every April 18th. Very cheery, very spring-ish, and is a reference to days of yore when I always wanted the sweet sorbet for my birthday. Somewhere Mama Jane should be smiling.

And April is also Hermit Of Mink Hollow month. This Todd R album came out in April of 1978 just as I was preparing to graduate from high school. Listening to it often brings me back to the feeling in my heart of so long ago, especially this time of year. It's a coming-of-age opus book-ended with two incredible existentialist musical delights. First - All The Children Sing - a three minute whirlwind of an album opener and the closer - Fade Away - a beautiful spiritual ending.

I just listened to All The Children Sing three times in a row. If a man had only written that one song then that would be enough. It says it all and does so in a magnificent holy manner.

With the completion of This Moth, That Flame I had intended on resuming work on The Lost Child... but now I have a new bee in my bonnet.

I have this idea for a new story, a story that borrows a title from a song by Todd R. And it incorporates an idea I've had bouncing around in my head for a few months now. And it's dark and scary and most people wouldn't want to read it. And yet it must be addressed. But no matter what it's springtime, a time for rebirth and promise, and the sun shines for all.

You and I will stay
and watch it all ---- fade away.

Damn This Blasted Wind!

Absurd ---- that's the only word that can describe these winter winds we've encountered this year. The weather's changing folks and it don't look pretty.

At least the wind gave me an idea for a just completed short story: The Next Cinderella. Pretty much writ, molded and spanked into life.

Also finished a piece for Baked Plain titled This Moth, That Flame. Now I only need to complete Your Windows To My Soul and the thing will be done in time for summer -- praise the lord!

Now Playing On Silver Moon Radio: Marriage Made In Heaven by Jules Shear, Todd R's first encounter with Elliott Easton way back in 1982 when he produced Shear's Watchdog album. That record includes the original version of All Through The Night, the song that Cyndi Lauper had a hit with, and also one of my all-time favorite tunes Standing Still.