Do you recall what was revealed ... the day the music...

Some days you just wonder ... Today is the anniversary of an accident that happened before I was born but it still affects me deeply. Referred to as the day the music died, a plane crash claimed the lives of 3 great Rock n Roll musicians.

The music ... It played a big part in many aspects of my life. I enjoy many kinds of music - from classical to singing bowls and Gregorian chant to rock - punk, R&B to trance, folk, and country. I have a pretty good selection ... I used to have more but someone needed them more than they thought that I did. I try to be forgiving and I remember that "... you get what you need".

The thing about the music is that I have used it as a tool to survive some of the most traumatic and turbulent times of my life. In my darkest hours I would spend hours listening to tunes (... man you time is sand your ways are leaves upon the sea ...) and I would imprison, no entomb, the pain in a mental construct enclosed in a different memory - a force-field. While the magic was a blessing at the time (... what kind of war is this, that I can't fight no more ... leaves me weaponless ... ) it has left me with self-imposed mental time bombs (I fell like I'm sitting on a time bomb baby). There are lyrics and melodies out there that trigger body memories ( ... go on & let him in he's only askin' for a simple job to do & nothing more ... but looking back I see this stranger had the key to any door ...) memories of rage, pain, grief, shame, helplessness, ( ... I'm standin' at the crossroads fell I'm slippin' down ...) hopelessness and even love & joy.

As you might imagine, this can make walking through life ( ... as I walk along I wonder ...) somewhat akin to dancing in a mine field. I can be having a great day and a song or snippet of a tune can rip open an old scar on my soul. It is like a werewolf tearing open my chest (... saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand ...) and ripping out my heart. Or perhaps it is a nice one (... sunshine came softly through my window today ...) - Gimme Shelter - that inspires hope - thanks Kat, all my love forever - and reminds me that life is worth living. Other times it is loss, or regret - Keep Talking by Pink Floyd - but the pain is lessened by the fact that the same song is mentally linked to "Coming Back To Life & "Learning To Fly", but there is a chance that I will remember the `crazy diamond` - so sad (God bless you Syd, R.I.P.). Yes, the music is ... complicated ( ... my chest is aching and it burns like a furnace; the burning keeps me alive, or just about ...).

I couldn't imagine what I would have done if I had not learned to trance-out( ... I hide in my music, forget the pain, and dream ...) to the music. It is possible that I would have sought help sooner ( ... hello; is there any body in there ; just nod if you can hear me ... ) but it is equally possible that I might not have survived (... rapped all night about his suicide ...). Who is to say that without The Secret Policeman's Other Ball would I be standing here? Without Al Stewart would I have found the strength to escape insanity?

Nothing that's forced can ever be right. If it doesn't come naturally, leave it

...

Well I'm up to my neck in the crumbling wreckage, of all that I wanted from life

When I looked for respect all I got was neglect though I swallowed the line as a sign of the times

But dealing a jack from the back of the pack they said "You lose again"

Oh, I said, who needs it? Who needs it?

Well don't get me wrong now I tried to get on with the jokers that got in my way

I put on a smile and I tried all the while to be straight

But they just wanted more all the time and I'm sure you know what I mean when I say

That I'm sick of the touch and there's only so much you can take.

Well nothing that's real is ever for free; you just have to pay for it sometime

She'd said it before, and she said it to me.

I suppose she believed there was nothing to see but those same old four imaginary walls

She had built for living inside ... I said oh, you just can't mean it

...

Well nothing that's forced can ever be right; If it doesn't come naturally, leave it

That's what she said as she turned out the light; she may have been wrong and she may have been right

But I woke with the frost, and noticed she'd lost the veil that covered her eyes

I said oh, you can leave it.

If I had not had The Kinks, The Cranberries, Bob Dylan, The Rankins and others (... Sister Christian ...) ... would I have Survived? Or would things have turned out completely differently? Would I have found recovery (... twas the needle & the spoon , worth the trip ...), or even wanted to? What kind of shape would I be in if it weren't for The Band (.. pulled in to Nazareth, feelin' 'bout half passed dead. I just NEED ...) . Just for today I want to say that I am grateful for the musicians, and more so for the songwriters ... the word-smiths who work the real magic. I owe some of these people my life ... Yes there are other people who are equally responsible for thwarting my "great self-destruction" ... and to them I also owe a debt of gratitude(... you didn't have to love but you did, and I thank you ...) that I may never wholly repay. I will attempt to pay it forward - and back whenever & wherever possible.

So, (... see me now a veteran of a thousand psychic wars ...) when the musics over & the song is done ... don't forget to thank the people who put you where you are today ....

If you can read this, know that you are loved. Be good to yourself and keep the faith. When all else fails - go home grab a box of tissues & your headphones and put on a tune / album / cd that makes you cry ... and play it over & over & over again. Trust me in this, and I promise that YOU will know when it is time to change the tune ... and dance. Big Hugs!