“There was all these things, that I don’t think I remember. Hey, how lucky can one man get.” – John Prine
There was the sound of applause reverberating over the redundant sound of a needle stuck on vinyl. Accompanying the hypnosis in that moment was my own mind playing music to the rhythm of the repeating click over static…my sleep’s imagination of melodies crescendoed until stopping in unison on a single chord. I woke up to turn off the phono, but the thunderous clapping of hands continued on somewhere outside the walls of my apartment….
I stepped outside and emerged into an opaque fog only having my hearing to search the location of the crowd sounds.
In that later morning, I found myself standing at the edge of a high cliff. The fog had dissipated just enough to reveal an athletic field below surrounded by adults applauding a group of children playing before them. I remember feeling immense pain and the need to get closer, but my feet wouldn’t move….the height of the cliff and divide of the ravine below was too formidable…… I clapped my hands together as loudly as I could that day, but was unable to penetrate the decibels rising from below. I continued applauding until the thick fog again smothered me, validating how invisible I really had become.
Yes John, sometimes it’s easier to forget, but really, does that make us lucky or voiceless clowns in the matters of our past transgressions?