While not written from personal experience, the tragic loss and seemingly endless rush of memories becomes contagious. Unfortunately, we feel the duty to carry the burden of pain. We collect our own sadness and take it with us wherever we go. Sometimes, it is more painful to let go.
MIDIMike
While not written from personal experience, the tragic loss and seemingly endless rush of memories becomes contagious. Unfortunately, we feel the duty to carry the burden of pain. We collect our own sadness and take it with us wherever we go. Sometimes, it is more painful to let go.
MIDIMike
This is a small collection of ideas, really. Some phrase or thought that I repeated over and over until I could get to a pen and some paper. (Back in the day!). Some of the verses flow and are just fun to say. Observations and my favorite past-time of stating the obvious are scattered here. No real theme that I can remember. Paying it forward. Waiting for a future song.
MIDIMike
Maybe this is a simple celebration of diversity. In all things. I could never understand why the Christian faithful spends so much energy hating the very things their perfect god created. My parents just didn’t let us grow up like that. We never saw differences a threat, but as life from a different point of view and perspective.
MIDIMike
Another glimpse of lost love. Or love lost. The one that got away. A constant dilemma: hold them too close and risk pushing them away. Not holding them lets them slip away before you know it. When you were together you knew what tortures you now; you can’t go back.
There is no one else and never will be.
MIDIMike
Shifting to a better job and position I moved to Indiana to supervise late shift at a metal plating and plastic molding company. I moved first and rented a small place for a few months to make sure it was going to work before bringing my first wife out.
Small town.
One stop sign.
No one is in a rush. Worse than ‘island time’. I am so used to doing 10 things at once and find myself in the middle of nowhere doing nothing!
Farmers grow summer crops and often rotate to a winter wheat. Some farmers plant potatoes late in the season. Out there I felt like a Late Potato.
No rush.
This song has its roots in my observation of childhood development. In hind sight, this should have been my first ‘red flag’ while dating my current wife. Her daughter could not play games the way other kids do. She has to win. But not by actually winning. When she loses she will act as the winner and tell her version to anyone that will listen. Repeating a lie over and over almost makes it true.
She would ask me to play the game where you guess which hand she is holding the trinket or toy. Each time I would fail to guess the correct hand she would giggle and ask me to play again. In case you don’t have kids or didn’t guess it yet, she was not holding anything in either hand. That became the inspiration for the second verse.
My wife and I have been separated for a couple of years now. I failed to see the same behavioral traits exhibited by her daughter. My wife was just older and was able to hide the truth better. But even in 1987 the chorus was focused on why my wife behaved the way she did.
Had I known back then all those games and stories and false memories were intentional and part of her ‘great plan’, I would have cut my losses decades ago…… So much wasted time.
MIDIMike
Clearly that is what this was, an idea, but I love the first verse in that it sets up the rest of the mood for the song. I also have a lot of driving references in my songs over the years. Easy analogies, and I am an analogy king. The line about putting away your toys is another question that pops up in my themes about musical equipment and my home studio. I am not sure how long I will continue to write and record original songs and local bands. I am not sure when but I cannot stop now so I have not written my last song yet.
Another look at relationships and friendships that just work well. Things fit in place. Intentions are understood. A smile that means everything. This is what it feels like to belong to someone.
MidiMike 