My Vicky Life

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Not to belabor the point, but I’ve received a few messages like the one below, so I thought I’d try to answer them all at once.

"…I saw that you posted about having some difficulty getting on board with Where All the Songs Come From, and it seems like you’ve been trying hard to like it, but can’t."

I actually do like the song very much. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say it has already become one of my top three favorite happy songs of all time (the first two being My Cherie Amour by Stevie Wonder and Love Comes to Everyone by George Harrison). But I read what the author said about it, and assuming I’m interpreting it correctly, I guess what’s still gnawing at me is the suggestion that all you have to do to get to that place where all the songs come from is to move just a little bit outside of your comfort zone and then everything will just suddenly, magically rez. It can’t be that easy, and perhaps he’s not saying it is, but for some of us it’s just not even possible. Then there’s the recent mention of “halcyon days,” and “enough time,” and other ideas that don’t mean all that much when your halcyon days are already over. Which is, of course, in no way his fault. I guess I’m just taking it out on him because he happens to be in my line of fire at the moment, the unlucky son-of-a-gun. He’ll survive it, though.