jtpointofcon

Last night I watched a musical tribute to Joni Mitchell, the woman who blazed the trail for female singer-songwriters. She came out of the late 60's but never simply stayed of the 60's. "Big Yellow Taxi" was a big hit but not the only one by any stretch. One particular slice of the show pulled me in. James Taylor ran out to sing with Mary Chapin Carpenter and Shawn Colvin. He was as happy, as kidlike as I have ever seen him. But I couldn't help notice that this lanky lad had somehow lapsed into an older demographic. Sure, his hair had gone the ways of leisure suits quite a while ago. But, many men reveal their scalp decades before their social security checks. Something of his face had a hollowed look---not lean, but hollow. Last night James Taylor was old. And to add to the picture, another icon of the 60's and 70's, Joni Mitchell, elegantly dressed and make-uped, sat in her booth of honor---a place not reserved for youthful people, but those who have lived long enough to demand a retrospective. They had traded their faded jeans for clothes people's parents wear. Indeed, they were all grown upand then some. I'm sure I wore a smile as JT and two of my favorite female singers played with each other during the small set. People like these reveal so much in their lyrics that to follow them is to know at least a part of them---to feel a connection with them. They offer pieces of themselves within a song. And now they're older. (I wanted to write "old" but I had to add "er" to maintain my denial.) And so am I. I am 35. I was in kindergarten. They were at Woodstock. Somehow James Taylor has become a comfortable part of me. His life has publicly spanned mine. As long as I can remember, there has been JT. But last night forshadowed a day when there would not be a JT. A day where there will be one less connection point in my world. And perhaps that is my first glimpse into what it will be to be "older"to occassionally see one less point of connection in my world, as people fade---as they always do. Somehow for me it's hard not to look back to childhood as a response to this kind of stark realization. It's warmer to look back. And when I do, I find that I have edited out the unpleasantness, and left myself visions that play like hilight footage. It's nearly impossible for me to regain the perspective of me as a young boy. It was a time when I was small in my dad's chair. And somehow that chair framed the context of what it was to be young---to have not quite grown into this world yet. To me, the comfort of yesterday is undeniable. And when I see someone like JT---it sends me back to the time I first heard "You've Got a Friend"(before people who guest starred on the "Love Boat" transformed it into a song to turn your stomach)---a time when I was small in my dad's chair. And I realize that this man whom I've never met, feels like someone I've always known. And when he passes-----I will have one less point of connection in this world.



	9/17/00 9:35 am "JT---Point of Connection" -Morgan Young Last night I watched a musical tribute to Joni Mitchell, the woman who blazed the trail for female singer-songwriters. She came out of the late 60's but never simply stayed of the 60's. "Big Yellow Taxi" was a big hit but not the only one by any stretch. One particular slice of the show pulled me in. James Taylor ran out to sing with Mary Chapin Carpenter and Shawn Colvin. He was as happy, as kidlike as I have ever seen him. But I couldn't help notice that this lanky lad had somehow lapsed into an older demographic. Sure, his hair had gone the ways of leisure suits quite a while ago. But, many men reveal their scalp decades before their social security checks. Something of his face had a hollowed look---not lean, but hollow. Last night James Taylor was old. And to add to the picture, another icon of the 60's and 70's, Joni Mitchell, elegantly dressed and make-uped, sat in her booth of honor---a place not reserved for youthful people, but those who have lived long enough to demand a retrospective. They had traded their faded jeans for clothes people's parents wear. Indeed, they were all grown upand then some. I'm sure I wore a smile as JT and two of my favorite female singers played with each other during the small set. People like these reveal so much in their lyrics that to follow them is to know at least a part of them---to feel a connection with them. They offer pieces of themselves within a song. And now they're older. (I wanted to write "old" but I had to add "er" to maintain my denial.) And so am I. I am 35. I was in kindergarten. They were at Woodstock. Somehow James Taylor has become a comfortable part of me. His life has publicly spanned mine. As long as I can remember, there has been JT. But last night forshadowed a day when there would not be a JT. A day where there will be one less connection point in my world. And perhaps that is my first glimpse into what it will be to be "older"to occassionally see one less point of connection in my world, as people fade---as they always do. Somehow for me it's hard not to look back to childhood as a response to this kind of stark realization. It's warmer to look back. And when I do, I find that I have edited out the unpleasantness, and left myself visions that play like hilight footage. It's nearly impossible for me to regain the perspective of me as a young boy. It was a time when I was small in my dad's chair. And somehow that chair framed the context of what it was to be young---to have not quite grown into this world yet. To me, the comfort of yesterday is undeniable. And when I see someone like JT---it sends me back to the time I first heard "You've Got a Friend"(before people who guest starred on the "Love Boat" transformed it into a song to turn your stomach)---a time when I was small in my dad's chair. And I realize that this man whom I've never met, feels like someone I've always known. And when he passes-----I will have one less point of connection in this world.