memory. 1975. rural new york. summer? walking through the department store. look

memory. 1975. rural new york. summer? walking through the department store. looking for cassette tapes. listening to bohemian rhapsody, totally aware that I am too ignorant to grasp the meaning of the lyrics, and not caring – i understand it’s timeless. just trying to figure out how many albums I can fit on a three pack of memorex tapes. i can smell the plastic, feel the tape, remember the sun.

cut to walking down the hall where the kids are singing ‘smokin in the boy’s room outside the men’s room … and thinking they’re nuts. not my tribe. certainly not college bound.

the color of the yellow punched tape in my hand. the impossibility of cleaning up all the dots at the teletype.

homogeneity is something that seems boring until you lose it. the fact that it’s boring means you are part of everyone and everything – and you have time and space for boredom.

And it’s in that time and space you find meaning.