I recently came across a lyric I wrote in 1964.

One of the first songs I composed with the band, and actually, I lost it on purpose, uh huh, I believe, because, I think I was still supremely pissed off at everyone, including the entire population of the planet, about the breakup of the group after we missed our Woodstock moment. Anyway, I guess, that’s too much from too long ago to revisit, today. It’s just a lyric, I mean, you know, I mean, now, here, in my hand. I can’t recall the tune, like how it went or anything. I need, well, it would be helpful, I guess, to have some other things to work with in order to do that. The chords. The melody. The, well, you know, I guess, maybe, the band…

So, there it is, for me.

Recapping: Recently, I found a old souvenir that looks like a brittle piece of crispy yellowish paper, garnished with some ghostly monochromatic words scratched into its antique pulp. The impetuous scribe, with youthful haste, by my recollection, used the most awesome word processor of all, a No. 2 pencil. Appearing to be of no real significance, on a table, under a light, in your house, I would assume, but, in this precious moment, in my hand, quivering slightly, this enormously historic little sheet paper informs me of a distant chapter in life, which I did indeed venture upon, albeit younger, healthier, and with considerably more hair. But I was there. Right there. Poised upon the threshold to the days of glory.

I lost it. A long long time ago.

And. I. Have. Found. It.

Now, hummm, what am I gonna do with this…?

Topics: stories, humanity, relief, lost and found, souvenirs, Redemption