my ever present past

Okay, it's out there. Sent digitally to 4 readers, and in hard copy, by courier, to two more, with at least one more hard copy to go out. And yes, of course I couldn't resist, I read it myself, the version that came back from the printer, looking so official, not quite like my work at all.

Only it's not only my work, it's my life. That's what's weird about memoir writers - it's not just our writing chops that are on display, it's our entire lives. I confess - well, you know that I'm a weeper, and I did weep at the end. Because it's my adolescence, it's my parents, my love life, my fantasies, my future being mapped out there.

Now to see if it works for people who are not me.

After reading it, I put on Paul McCartney's "Memory Almost Full," one of my favourites of his recent CD's, and wept a bit more. He is singing about his "ever present past," about his own memories - "That was me." And about "the day that I die" in a song called "The End of the End." Quite beautiful.

It's pouring, thank heavens, so I finally got to watch the DVD I rented last week, "That Thing You Do," written and directed by Tom Hanks, about a Beatle-ish 60's rock band. Charming and fun.

Okay. Now I can clear the piles of paper away and think about tomorrow. I'll be 63. And next year, on August 1st, I'll be 64. Someone should write a song about that.