It is statistically impossible that there isn’t another form of life, the possibilities are infinite, the permutations endless. Are we alone, absolutely not. Are we lonely?
Do you remember having to write a five page paper discussing the merits of your subject of choice? Writing the paper was grueling enough. Then you had to type the damn thing.
It’s time for a break. You just finished a brilliant page two and you feel like you may have this all typed up before bed time. And there sits an unfixable typo. The magic white correction tape is not going to gloss over this. And then, less determined, you rip out the paper and start typing again. It is time to start the coffee pot.
I found this record amongst an old bin of records sold to me by some man who lived in the middle of the country.
And so starts the adventure.
I am a bit fascinated by Charley Pride. that was usually not a genre that I like, but I’ve come to like it zealously. Songs of heartbreak, love, love Lost, and waiting at a train station are quite endearing.
And to have a person of color crossover to that genre makes it even more special.