For a moment

Last night, for a moment there was a bond, a brotherhood, a sense of belonging. We were driving back from a night out in Brighton. Leslie went into a brooding mood and found punk rock to suit on a university radio station. We briefly talked it over and I realised that too often my mood took a similar turn. We related. Common ground was struck as the RSX snarled through the night, expressing the darkness within in sympathy with the anger without, pouring from the speakers.

I sat in silence with closed eyes and let the robust music steal me away to a sanctuary where mates retreat in quiet solidarity - no intrusion, no disturbance. The lonely flight where eagles soar became his and mine. For a brief moment time paused. Everything came back to me there in the gloom. Long forgotten faces and distant places, the present flowed into the past. Indeed, love was one prolonged goodbye; friendship but a fleeting moment.

For a moment it was mine to savour. But the moment was over all too soon.

My colouring book

My student crush, Agnetha Fältskog, has published a new CD. Sheer poetry threaded on flowing strands of delicate musical tones, her voice carries me away on heart break paths to valleys of nostalgia, hope and despair.

And so here is to love deeply cherished but lost in the rambles of history:

---- My Colouring Book ----

For those who fancy colouring books
and lots of people do
Here´s a new one for you
A most unusual colouring book
the kind you never see
Crayons ready
Very well
Begin to colour me

These are the eyes
that watched him
as he walked away
Colour them grey
This is the heart
that thought
he would always be true
Colour it blue

These are the arms that held him
and loved him
then lost him somehow
Oh...
Colour them empty now

These are the beads
I wore until she came between
Colour them green

This is the room that I sleep in
and walk in, and weep in, and hide in
that nobody sees
Oh...
Colour it lonely please

This is the man
whose love I depended upon
Colour him gone

[written by John Kander & Fred Ebb]

At season's end

The summer season has come and gone. This long weekend marks the end of the official summer vacation for students here in the USA and specifically in Boston. Labour Day started for me at midnight in the one corner of The Burren with a beer in my hand in the company of a few mates. Of course, anywhere else in the world Labour Day is held on 1 May, but that date is synonymous with May Day, a distinctly Red commemoration - too much to stomach for US legislators who have the bastions of Capitalism to uphold along with those other virtues of The Dream, crusades and that eternal institution of sublime bondage, marriage.

Delightfully pissy weather ensured that any remnants of travel plans were aborted at the concept phase. The England in New England clearly demonstrated its enduring power. With abundant Pythonesque mischief, Irony exerted herself true to form today by dialing in pleasant weather just as I decided voluntarily to work half-day.

But let me not pretend that there were much in the pipeline this past summer season. Truth be said, this season has been rather subdued - hovering on the edge of sordidness. Grand schemes to go hiking did not transpire, partly due to lack of enthusiasm from candidate hiking partners. A trip to San Francisco did happen and was pleasant enough in a way.

This weekend my good and close pal Thomas got married to a Greek woman, Vasiliki. Budget and leave constraints kept me from attending. I'll see him in October when my big travel for the year will take off, airline antics permitting. BA and BAA alike are not inspiring much confidence of lately.

And so the day ends and it's time to head for bed.