Good music is one of the joys of my life. What is it about good writing set to music or just the right combination of sounds that lightens the soul? Maybe that has something to do with why I enjoy folk music and the singer/songwriter tradition. The words and instruments seem more accessible. While writing this post, I'm listening for the first time to a song called Gravity by Eddie from Ohio. Why bury lyrics like these under an overproduced sound: I've got this fear of falling that I'm trying to overcome. You and I know I'd never jump. Whom I'm trying to kid. But just imagine the sensation. There's no such thing as an atheist on the thirty-second floor. As an adult, I've also developed an appreciation for the power and wonder of classical music, especially when I can listen to it live. Thelma and our kids probably remember the summer of 2007 when I returned from London positively brimming with excitement after attending a performance of Elgar's En
Clippings and thoughts I'd rather not mulch