“Time isn’t holding us. Time isn’t after us.”

David Byrne, “Once In A Lifetime”

Fifteen years. I don’t know if it’s the voice of Jeremy Piven screaming in my ear, the sound of the periodical cicada returning from parts unknown, or just the ghosts in my head saying that we’re back where we started, but the merry-go-round of personal history is coming full circle. Through the accident of marriage (again) and the inevitability of divorce (again) I have successfully managed to isolate myself (again) in the middle of nowhere. Most of my personal interaction happens between my three year old daughter and me…fortunately she is hyper-intelligent and super-cute so it is always rewarding. I do, however, long for some other connection. It needn’t be romantic. It needn’t be serious. It just needs to be real. A conversation without reference to Blue’s Clues. A story that doesn’t involve the Big Bad Wolf. “These are the days when we look for something other…”

There is Sturm in the air…the collective unconscious gently blows in through the window…a fog of memory and nostalgia and longing. Spirits? Poltergeist? The road not taken? That alternate universe where I did everything right? People named Roger and Virginia and…Anne. The voice of Pineapple Head…the girl I used to know a long time ago. Strains of Glitterball arrive via an email that has been bouncing around since… What does it all mean?

Car crashes. Government jobs. Families of five. Newspapers. Game Boys. Bikram Yoga. It’s the world that exists outside of me…a reality filled with people I used to know and love. They have all emerged from the abyss of time to….to….

Say that it is all ok.

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