I guess, when all’s said and done, I’m the kind of guy who stays up until 2 a.m. on a weeknight, watching a live stream of my favorite band performing on the other side of the country, critiquing the apparent health of the lead singer and writing a few hundred words on what the current rendition of a 30-year-old song means for the foreseeable future on this tour AND THEN deleting those words, knowing, somewhere in his heart, that it’s all fine — that love, after all, triumphs in the face of the unknowable and that, truly, the only thing that matters is the present moment and its infinite and self-repeating nature.
Sandy 