{"id":56,"date":"2006-11-16T15:38:00","date_gmt":"2006-11-16T20:38:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.silkentent.com\/Trees\/2006\/11\/16\/in-the-air-tonight\/"},"modified":"2013-11-02T23:06:21","modified_gmt":"2013-11-03T04:06:21","slug":"in-the-air-tonight","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.silkentent.com\/Trees\/?p=56","title":{"rendered":"In the Air Tonight"},"content":{"rendered":"

November 16, 2006
\nThursday<\/strong><\/p>\n

Well, if you told me you were drowning,
\nI would not lend a hand.
\nI’ve seen your face before my friend,
\nBut I don’t know if you know who I am . . .
\nAnd I can feel it comin’ in the air tonight, Oh Lord . . .
\n<\/em>\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0 \u00e2\u20ac\u201d Phil Collins, b. 1951
\nEnglish singer and lyricist<\/p>\n

\"NaBloPoMoLast Friday<\/a> I wrote about a friend’s distress over a classmate\u00c2\u00a0who has been holding a grudge against her for fifty years. How, she wondered, can someone stay angry for so long? This afternoon I talked to someone about the extremely positive nature of my memories of high school and college. Although I experienced disappointments and had my share of troubles, in general I remember those years with something of a golden glow. My friend today said that perhaps I’ve been able to let go of unproductive anger over things that happened then.<\/p>\n

I am, of course, capable of holding a grudge. In fact, I’ve written about one that will have its fiftieth anniversary this spring. In 1957 my fourth grade teacher (called “Violet Stone” in the piece I wrote about her<\/a> seven years ago), denied me the perfect attendance certificate I had earned by dint of showing up every single day to school even though I hated being in her class. I said then that I had lost the will to retaliate, but that I still bore the anger.<\/p>\n

On Sunday<\/a> I wrote about learning of a beloved friend’s death. He’d come to me in a dream, I said, about the time that he lay dying.<\/p>\n

I mention this today because last night I dreamed about Mrs. Stone.<\/p>\n

Stay tuned.<\/p>\n

To be included on the notify list, e-mail me:
\nmargaretdeangelis [at] gmail [dot] com (replace the brackets with @ and a period)<\/em><\/p>\n


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