Friday and the majority of patrons walking up to the counter at Starbucks have a small screen in their hands. They momentarily look up to engage the barista to place their order.  It’s a sunny day, and I wonder if anyone pays attention.  The warm sun, the last day of spring, the effulgence of life is happening all around–and does it matter?

A few minutes ago I had a conversation with a friend who stopped by my table while he waited for his coffee.  Dan is at work now, across the street.  He is a craftsman who works with his hands, a builder of street rods.  Dan brought up a recently listened pod cast which was on his mind. He recounted that Elon Musk said that technology is adopted at such warp speed, that we will never become aware of the adverse affects until it is too late.  Elon Musk, the CEO of Tesla should know.  Not that we need to be told.  The troubling truth is plain to anyone who cares to observe.

I’ll leave this tune for your contemplation, and appreciation.  Like any work of the human spirit, the meaning changes with the spirit of the age, and with our need for a lifeline in our always troubled times.  The drumbeat is our own beating heart, and the sitar notes are as a haunting inner voice…..

“I look inside myself…….”

“I could not foresee this thing happening to you….”

Paint It Black

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by, dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes

I see a line of cars and they’re all painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a newborn baby, it just happens everyday

I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and must have it painted black
Maybe then I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts
It’s not easy facing up when your whole world is black

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by, dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes

Hmm, hmm, hmm…

I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black

Yeah!