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Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head
Everybody has the moment when
they realize they are. You suddenly come to and know that you're
a creature on God's green earth and your parents are who they are and
your dog is your dog and your house is your house and your thingy is
well
that's yours too.
I came to on my grandparent's
side porch. I had a canoe paddle for a guitar and I was singing the
Burt Bacharach song "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" with
everything I had to a very attentive audience of boxwoods. The whole
family was lounging in the living room after dinner and listened through
the wall. They clapped and I promptly disappeared into the great cosmos
again and didn't come back for quite a while. My mother would plop me
in living rooms throughout the family but not a peep from me. I'd like
to think I was chatting it up with Zeus and Buddah, not having time
to entertain the cousins. Turns out I was just being stubborn---that
I definitely am.
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