I slept through it.
The phone rang, and my friend called from New York –
“Turn on your fucking television!”
“I don’t have a damn t.v., and you know it; I get more done during… why are you crying?
What happened?”
“They flew planes… oh my God…”
We’d had tickets to see Laurie Anderson that night. C___ came down and we sat in silence. I think that was the first thing – total silence – no planes coming in from over the lake, no cars on the road and people actually walking around – milling – on the sidewalks.
We ate quietly, and then thoughts turned to our own architecture, symbols of Chicago far and wide. And suddenly everything was a target.
We drank, and after more than a few, decided to call the theatre and see what was going on – was there still a show? Was it even proper?
Laurie played that night, and we were there. And we all cried.
I wrote this song because we find a flow in our heart that allows us to remember painful situations, and move on simultaneously – for all things in life. Catch it quick! That chance at redemption can be gone so so fast. We move on, or we don’t.
In spite of all that followed after that day, I believe that humanity shared a moment of clarity, clarity like two hands clapping together demands your attention, or a crowd joined in applause, and even the quiet sound made when the hand of a loved one finds your palm and then your fingers intertwine.
Thank you for playing that night, and for embracing the whole world in your songs.
“Freedom is a scary thing – not many people really want it…”
-Laurie Anderson-
