September 20, 2010
Years and years (and even more years) ago, I had a dream about the perfect novel. I woke up with the whole, entire plot mapped out—characters, dialogue, the whole she-bang. I wrote one word down on a notepad, knowing in my heart of dirty little hearts that this single word would tell me everything I needed to know in the morning to pen my best-seller.
Excitedly, I rubbed my eyes and looked at the notepad to see:
The word meant nothing to me. I have never remembered what the novel was supposed to be about, who the characters were, what their fascinating adventures might have been. That is why this weekend, when we went garage sale shopping and I spied this album in a box, I had to plunk down the $1.00 for the pristine vinyl.
P.S. To redeem myself in your eyes, I also scored The Chambers Brothers' The Time Has Come as well as Elton John's Caribou.