I seem to be stuck again. Fortunately, there's no immediate deadline pressure, so I can stare at the manuscript and wait for my brain to work out the details.
Come on, brain. You know you want to tell me a story.
Jenna Mamina and Brian Gore cover John Gorka's arrangement of an anonymous poem.
“I will come to a time in my backwards trip when November eleventh, accidentally my birthday, was a sacred day called Armistice Day. When I was a boy, all the people of all the nations which had fought in the First World War were silent during the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of Armistice Day, which was the eleventh day of the eleventh month.
“It was during that minute in nineteen hundred and eighteen, that millions upon millions of human beings stopped butchering one and another. I have talked to old men who were on battlefields during that minute. They have told me in one way or another that the sudden silence was the voice of God. So we still have among us some men who can remember when God spoke clearly to mankind.
“Armistice Day has become Veterans’ Day. Armistice Day was sacred. Veterans’ day is not.
“So I will throw Veterans’ Day over my shoulder. Armistice Day I will keep. I don’t want to throw away any sacred things.
“What else is sacred? Oh, Romeo and Juliet, for instance.
“And all music is.”
--Breakfast of Champions, Kurt Vonnegut, 1973
Happy 86th birthday, Mr. Vonnegut, wherever you are.
All right, fine. I'm taking the day off. Maybe longer. Maybe the book really will write itself.
In the meantime, I have other work I could be doing, and all this reading is piled up to my CHIN.