There have been moments that I felt time stretch.  I could count each second.  Example, a few weeks ago I feel off a ladder.  I felt each second.  Time compression.   During a car accident I have felt each second.

Today, I was talking to my oldest daughter about my grandfather Newman.  I explained that he road the rails throughout Mississippi and Louisiana playing music.  He said he made a living doing this.  He also told me that is how he met my grandmother.  I wanted her to hear him play the flat-top or dobro or fiddle.  I wanted her to hear him sing “I am dreaming tonight of my blue eyes” or “the prisoner’s song”.

He and my grandmother became share-croppers in Louisiana.  It was time on Saturday to play music and sing with his family.  My uncles played and my mom and grandmother sang with them.  No one was drinking it was just about music.   I remember sneering and pouting because I was forced to go to their house.

I realized that time is speeding by at this point.  No one takes the time to go sing or get together on Saturday nights as in the past.  No one is interested in why this is an important moment in time.  Sadly it is all slipping away.

I wish I could go back in time and hear this just once more.  I wish people would unplug and rejoin the party.


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