The Old Man Diaries

They called it Boyo Night, and it was, we played games and ate tacos, had a Klondike Bar, it wasn't anything astounding and yet it was one of the most beautiful fucking evenings of my life, there are times when you write things down cuz you want to remember them, no other reason, just so you can look back and smile, they spent the night smiling and laughing and then they dragged themselves towards their rooms, spent from the futbol and the park and the games, at one point i stood and listened to the wind and watched the blue light grow darker, i wondered why i always had problems remembering days like today... and then it struck me, we remember and we forget, if only to be surprised by it's beauty the next time it happens, to keep it sacred, to hold it up and gaze at it in wonder... trying to figure out how the simplest most ordinary of days can have more meaning than years of running the streets and looking for some unknown truth and yet now here the truth sits, clutching his stuffed bird or propped up and reading a book in his bed...

And so i post this clip again, it's the closest i can come sonically to how today felt, if that makes sense... and of course because i have sung both these songs to both the boyos, ND has turned 5 and i know that soon he won't want me to sing to him anymore, especially cuz the old man doesn't always sing the traditional songs and because most likely his singing voice is shit, but it's coming and i know it, i'm lucky, i get to put the boyos to bed every night, i know soon that will end and they won't need the old man to read or sing or just lay there and talk, when i'm brutally honest i know i'll miss it alot more than they'll ever know... all i want in life's a little bit of love to take the pain away...