We are less than six hours away from a new year, and I lament that I didn’t make more of “1921” by The Who in the first few months of the current year. Before I go further, it’d be helpful for you to check it out:

I’d first heard the song back in high school through Launchcast, that fabulous music player that helped me discover so many artists and tracks. When the words, “Got a feeling ’21 is gonna be a good year, especially if you and me see it in together” played in winter of 2003, they resonated. As one terrible year, full of disasters for the Riley family, drew to a close, the optimism in those first few seconds gave me hope.

Since then, the song rarely popped into my head. I don’t have Tommy on vinyl or CD, so I didn’t have much occasion to hear it. But as another terrible year (2020) began to draw to a close, the hope of “1921” returned. “I had no reason to be over-optimistic but somehow, when you smiled, I could brave bad weather” seemed so appropriate: a new president about to be sworn into office; vaccinations for the terrible disease killing so many; another copy of the fresh notebook that arrives every January 1st for us to write a new story. The harshness is more tolerable with others beside us, and whatever was to come could be surmounted.

There are, however, more words in the song: “So you think ’21 is going to be a good year? It could be good for me and her, but you and her, no, never!” Oh, yes, I remember now: this is a song about murder, about a killing that is witnessed by a child, about lying to that child, telling him that the things he knows he saw and heard didn’t happen, confusing him so much that he becomes “deaf, dumb and blind.” Those lovely opening lines are dashed by violence and there I was, pulled out of the song, watching the Capitol be breached by fascists and white supremacists. There was no peaceful transfer of power, and yet so many still grab us by the shoulders and scream, “You didn’t hear it; you didn’t see it; you won’t say nothing to no one never in your life.”

I used to write a lot more than I do now. Back in those days of listening to Launchcast, it was my soundtrack for writing nearly daily in my LiveJournal. I listened to music and wrote about high school and dating and Pennyfarthing and figuring out what was next for me after graduation. But that activity faded in college, replaced during my AmeriCorps service with Weekly E-mails. They were reflections on my service and life in New Hampshire after getting my degree at Elmira, and they went to an ever-increasing list of friends and acquaintances. Both my LiveJournal entries and those emails capture moments in time, but it’s the replies to the emails that mean so much more to me now. In them, I know that I matter to someone else. I hear the voices of friends also figuring things out, sharing their thoughts and stories, teaching me lessons. The words I wrote elicited a response, and it reminded both me and the person replying that this could be a good year with us seeing it in together.

So, I’d like to start writing again. I’m uncertain of the frequency or length, but I hope it lets us brave whatever bad weather is to come.

Love,
Paul