Edward J. Pluchar - The Blogsplitter

I get to the local paper when I can.  The daily editions will pile up until I have time to read them at a meal, or after Amelia and Marcy have gone to bed.  On the laptop, I’ve been looking into a tour of Frank Lloyd Wright’s home in Oak Park and listening to the Boss on Grooveshark.com when I noticed the open paper behind my monitor.

There’s a feature story on the page, then several short hits of stories from around the world.  There are the quick facts from the Lottery and the stock markets, and just below those is the smallest section on the page, understatedly titled, “Skies.”

There are times for sunrise and sunset today (well, June 29th), moonrise and set, and sunrise and set for the next day.

In fact, forget describing it.  Here is essentially how it appears:

SKIES

Sunrise today: 5:18am

Sunset today: 8:30pm

Moonrise: 10:25pm

Moonset: 8:22am

Sunrise tomorrow: 5:19am

Sunset tomorrow: 8:30pm

Ah.  The days are getting shorter.  And even with the weather and historical high and low temperatures, the smallest section on the page is, in fact, the grandest news on the page, a telling of the cosmic movements of our planet in relation to the closest star.  It’s altogether fitting.

This is a song by Harry Chapin, which is probably my second favorite of his songs. There are three sets of lines that I relish (and if you care to, I’d recommend listening to the song):

“And every year goes by like a tolling bell and it’s battered merchandise you sell, not well she can see. And though she’s heard it all a thousand times, couched in your attempted rhymes, she’ll march to your drum in time.”

“Sometimes words can serve me well and sometimes words can go to hell for all that they do. And for every dream that took me high there’s been a dream that’s passed me by, I know it’s so true.”

The bittersweetness really touches me. But my favorite set of lines…

“I can see myself it’s golden sunrise - Young boy, open up your eyes, it’s supposed to be your day. Now off you go horizon bound and you won’t stop until you’ve found your own kind of way.”

I’m not sure I can begin to explain why this line moves me, but I vividly imagine myself as a boy whose father has come to wake him with those words. And in the way Chapin phrases it, it’s almost as though I have the chance to spark my own awakening, to call myself to an adventure. (Much of this is due, I think, to the fact that Chapin uses the song to reflect on his own youth and passage into adulthood).

I napped yesterday and when I woke, I was conscious enough to let those words into my bloodstream, and it was the most pleasant waking I’ve had in a while.