What I love about history, about finding things no one has thought about in decades, is the feeling that I’m hearing a secret whispered from a ghost.
…ooo I loved that song ooo…
…ooo I thought I figured that out once but I was wrong ooo…
…ooo This is where I lived ooo…
I’m going to see Dave Rawlings Machine and John Paul Jones is going to be on the stage and I will be happy. My seats are in the balcony, which I am a bit worried about, but it’s too late now.
I have to run to Hendersonville this afternoon and everyone here at work is so sorry I have to make the trip. Oh, darn, I get to be driving around in this sunny afternoon. How will I cope?
Yesterday, K. hooked me up with a guy who could play all the Rock City Marches I had. It was amazing to be sitting in a room, the three of us, listening to music we weren’t sure anyone had heard in decades.
I really love the feeling of going into the TSLA and finding things and knowing that I might be seeing something that no one has seen in years. But this experience of turning around and sharing it with others is also really amazing.
But, yes, as I say in my post, I ended up apparently a Rock City march short. But on Twitter, a guy from the State Museum offered to see if he could track down their copy.
How is this my life? I honestly don’t know. I have all these incredibly interesting people I know who all are happy to help me feed my curiosity. I don’t even know why. But it’s pretty awesome. My hope is that it’s awesome for them, too.