H O M E


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.