“What I want is songs that echo. The stuff we’re doing now is like somebody’s bed sheets: spread ’em out, soil ’em, ship ’em out to laundry, you know? But our songs…I want us to be able to fold ourselves up in them forever… understand? That’s the most you’ll ever get out of me Wordman. Ever.”
I am Wordman, using squiggly letters bunched together to form words, sentences, paragraphs. Like Wordman who read Rimbaud, I read the works of the greats and hope that some of it rubs off on me.
I write (bad) poetry, all through high school. I present a maudlin piece about nuclear war, the idea of which permeated the 80s, to my school’s poetry annual. The poem is bleak, my idea of what reality would look like if the bombs explode. When the poem is published, mine, along with many others, have been completely rewritten — without any author’s permission. The negative imagery I wrote is replaced with an unknown hand’s sunshine and clouds, caused by the several references to God now included.
I am Eddie Wilson, a misunderstood introverted poet, who decides that if people don’t understand, I’ll simply remove myself from their presence.
I never submit to that journal again.
Eddie and the Cruisers is one of the most underrated movies of the 80s — it’s a classic, if you ask me. And the soundtrack is amazing, including its most popular song, On the Dark Side. Thanks, John Cafferty & The Beaver Brown Band.
This post is part of the Blogging A to Z Challenge. My theme is Musical Memoir. Each Monday through Saturday, I explore personal memories through my love of music, inspired and coordinated by the letters of the alphabet. Join in the fun and participate in the challenge, or leave a comment and enjoy some conversation. Thanks for reading. Peace.