I can't say that I was a kid that asked "why" a million times in a row only to be smacked up the side of the head by whatever adult was around, but I know that I was told "because" often. So, I guess I asked the question but varied it enough to duck the swing...

I've always wanted to understand the relationship between things. If the leaves changed color in the fall, how did they know it was the right time? If Santa Claus was able to visit every house in one night, how did anyone know what he looked like? Why did the train whistle change pitch after it passed me? Etc., etc., etc.

I guess that's how I became a "watcher." I tend to stand apart from people and watch how they interact. I've become a pretty good judge of body language. I hear the nuances in words. Faces tell tales beyond the words they speak. I've used this observation to help inform my songwriting. It's helped me in my day job as I weave my way through corporate hallways. Logical thinking begets predictable outcomes.

Perhaps that's why the occult scares the piss out of me. I remember being very disturbed after watching The Exorcist as a kid. There is no logical explanation for what I saw. A good friend of mine described a Ouija board experience beyond belief (and possibly a lie) that haunted me for some time. One of my elementary school friend's mother read Tarot cards and freaked me out with some of her predictions (some of which came true, but a tale for another day).

When logic fails me, I get blindsided. My expectations of outcome do not match the realities. These are the times I feel stupidest.

Why write all of this? I've had a few things happen in recent weeks that defy explanation and I don't mean in a good way. My gut has wrenched over these things. I've lost sleep. I can't make sense of why I couldn't control the situation. More correctly, why I couldn't see it coming? No, I can't say more. Not today. I just needed to try to organize some thoughts. I'll revisit this another day.

Maybe someday, someone can tell me why.

Note: An old favorite of mine from Neil Young and also one of the first songs I learned to play and sing at the same time. David Crosby once called Neil one of the few poets that wrote songs. This verse is evidence:

Is it hard to make arrangements with yourself,
When you're old enough to repay but young enough to sell?