Walking after midnight, Patsy Cline, 1957
A decade or so ago, I rolled with a series of setbacks that proved somewhat detrimental to my life's path. These choices centered around staying in a career I absolutely believe(d) to be my calling in life. It was surreal but my beloved industry stalled and then steadily slipped into decline. I know now that I stayed too long and I will never recover financially but I still cherish those years.
Working second shift had me driving home from Decatur to Florence most nights during the midnight hour. During these late-night drives -- like many other times in my life -- music was my saving grace.
One song in particular, Patsy Cline's Walking After Midnight, was my go-to friend. Truthfully, I considered the song my good-luck charm on the desolate, isolated, monotonous, daunting, exhausting and often terrifying trips home after many stressful deadline shifts. Walking After Midnight was in essence an ode each night to my true love -- print media.
I drown in Patsy's voice. Her tone resonates in my soul. Yes, the song is forlorn but it is also hopeful. She's committed to what seems like a hopeless search because she knows there will be joy again if she finds what is lost.
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