A Walk Down a Lane With Music in the Air

Feeling nostalgic.

Longer, by Dan Fogelberg. I used to sing this in the car on the way home from work when Spouse and I both worked at the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association. In my mind I envisioned a cabin type house with a fireplace, two stuffed chairs, end tables, lamps, and good books to read. (One of mine. [smiles]) Right now the cabin type house doesn't look too likely. Nor does one (or more) of my books being published.

Lady, by Kenny Rogers. This was a song of longing for me. Of wanting but not having. A feeling of how it should be, but never would be.

Year of the Cat, by Al Stewart. This song played often during my hey day of story creation. Stewart's songs had a haunting quality which seemed to touch ever creative nerve in my body. I remember sitting at a desk in the dark listening to the Year of the Cat album with just the light from television as I typed furiously on the original submission of The Prophecies of Madatar. (Back then I was using an Atari 800, which used a television to display instead of computer monitor.)

Jazzman, by Carole King. It was Stephen who opened me up to the beautiful music of Carole King and Joni Mitchell. Stephen opened up many doors to me. Behind every great work of creativity there must be inspiration. Stephen, while not necessarilly the inspiration for specific artistic endeavors, inspired me to be inspired. I think that's far more valuable a gift than to inspire a single work. A single work is just that. A single work. But the ability to catch the wind and touch anything. What a wondrous thing! Stephen's gone now, but I have someone new who inspires me to be inspired. Itis such a happy feeling, as this song intimates. It makes me want to stand and throw my hands up and say, "Thank You!"

Grazing in the Grass, by Hugh Masekela. A summer song. I recall Stephen driving us through the countryside with the windows down and the music blaring. The song made us feel like we were lounging on warm grass in the sun. (Hence the name?) We felt lazy and just kept driving and driving. What fun! To be carefree again. Is it possible?

Grazing in the Grass, by Friends of Distinction. This version was no less summery, and it also returns me to a time when Stephen and I were young and happy. Whatever torments we had could not last, and we had fun. We played tennis. Sometimes Chris would join us. That was always a riot. Like the time Chris found a junky old tennis ball someone left on the court. He would hit down the long line of courts and shout, "A little help!" The ball would eventually work its way back to us. He would take it and immediately send it back. "A little help!" Oh, to be young and stupid again.

And, since I've returned to my youthful days before legal age.

Soulful Strut, by Young Holt Unlimited. In our own way we were a cocky group, despite our insecurities. For we believed we would grow out of them and ultimately succeed. The world was our playground. It didn't quite work out that way. But the memories are still dear.