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Winding down a career provides excellent motivation for cleaning closets and cupboards. Tonight, in so doing I found these two gems from the 340 Club era. The first is a brief piece likely written during Chris Joyce brief tenure as a resident. The second, my work, is easier to place in time because it clearly pinpoints its date.

Untitled, by Chris Joyce

They thought Paul was dead
When they saw 28 IF
But I was only sure
When I read of Stu Sutcliffe

Circa 71974 by Tee Knorr

Remembering the past is fun. It’s forever being done, for its all we know. We can’t predict tomorrow and we are busy creating today. So all that we know is yesterday. We know what was good and we know what was bad. We try to repeat the former and forget the latter. But repearting is no fun and forgetting is hard. So we are doomed to remember and that’s what’s fun.

It seems that I met her yesterday and maybe I did, I know I can’t forget her and it seems I can’t repeat her. It might not have been love but it’s as close as I ever came. So to me who knows no better it feels just the same. I remember the night I met her though my mind was not too clear. On July nineteenth it will have been exactly one year.