Craig Kirchner reflects on romance, elopement, honeymoon and when life goes awry.
The first band were doing their first ever gig. But all three were very experienced musicians and two of them were people I had known for years.
It was, yes, a Jim fanatic who led me to visit the grave. We had parted ways in volatile fashion before my trip. He’d expressed a lifelong desire to visit Jim’s grave. I wasn’t sure whether a casual photo of it would be a peace offering, or a taunt. I was, truth be told, quite fine either way.
Believing herself unloved and unlovable had splintered her heart. Her desperate life’s search was to find someone to piece it back together.
A 'heart of yarn' inspires a Valentine's Day love poem
I’ll blame the sweet caress of the violins.
...we laugh in fear’s face and sing words first sung by TLC...
On her trip, she bought a baggy t-shirt at a thrift shop. Being the resident movie/book/music encyclopedia, she had asked me while she was gone if I had heard of Gregory Alan Isakov.
I had to choose well. Finally, my polished fingers landed on a yellow case, MPB Classics, and picked track nine.
It was cold there at the border/I shouted your name, bitter/winds blew strong.