Sunday, December 14, 2014

Day 344.64 Albert

They say that records are made to be broken. I insist that some are not...

I wake at the usual time, take the three steps to the bathroom, empty bladder and return to the warmth, comfort and the three more hours that await. It is Sunday and I have no commitments until 0900.

I put another piece of the puzzle together, enough to, perhaps, crack the code. A broken record is stuck playing the same passage over and over in the headphones of my sleeping mind.

It came to mind during the last REMs of the night. Wasn't even a song, it was a couple of lyrics. Which of course started the fascinating mind game of name that tune. Amazingly enough, I was able to string together some more lyrics and almost had the chorus. I had the melody and the time signature, but the band and their song (was it a B side dog?) remained in copyright and out of my memory files.

Relaxing and chuckling to myself, I breathed deep into the morning's unspoiled calm.

I will sleep on it and all else failing, Google it in the marooning.

Which I did.

The lyric was "high school - my school."

The song was Albert Flasher.

The album was Share the Land (or Greatest Hits)

The band was the Guess Who.

It was 1971. Mike and I had just rented our first apartment. It was a tiny studio convenient to 405, which helped us both as I had a 50 mile commute to school and he a short haul to work. I think the rent was $175. Gas was .40. I found out quick that feeding oneself meant shopping, cooking and cleaning. The commute after practice left precious little time for homework and partying with my cheerleader GF. Homework lost. And then I lost my GF.

I felt horrible but still had to shop, cook, clean, commute, work, sleep.

I was a mess, learning a lot of life's important lessons in a woefully short period of time. My GPA sank as did my batting average. I got fired from my job, crashed the car.

One night I started to sob, knocked down by the enormity of the decisions I had made and their disastrous results. 

My friend, roommate and pit-buddy put an album on our makeshift (but very proficient) stereo. He lifted the arm of my Gerrard turntable and played this song, as a reminder, according to legend, that things, however bitter at present, have the potential to get better. Further, it is recorded that we are all in this together, and please never to forget that you have brothers and sisters that care.

I guess my subconscious was playing that theme again last night. a broken record.

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