This must be the place: ‘Blow up your TV, throw away your paper, go to the country, build you a home’
As I was cracking the third of four eggs into the bowl to then scramble the yolks, the chorus of John Prine’s seminal 1971 number “Spanish Pipedream” echoed throughout the room. I decided then and there that to make breakfast with Mr. Prine playing in the background is the only way to start your day.
This must be the place: 'All these places had their moments, with lovers and friends, I still can recall'
I turned 40 years old today.
This morning, I awoke in the guest bedroom of my parents’ farmhouse in my native North Country of Upstate New York. It was 12 degrees outside with a frigid breeze, the sun shining brightly. I rolled over and looked out the second-story window onto a backyard blanketed in snow, each flake sparkling.