The old years are tied to the new years. They carry forward pictures, memories and, most of all, music. The albums from which these songs came were with me in Ghana. They are bright in my memory drawers. They are deserted island music, heart music. They were cassettes which didn’t handle humidity well. I’d have to bang them against a table or rewind by hand with my Bic pen, but they lasted. I listened just about every night. I never tire of these albums, of these songs.

This entry was posted on December 30, 2024 at 3:10 pm and is filed under Just Because. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. Both comments and pings are currently closed.