in my hands

I’m sure I’ve written down the thought before, and will again… but I see my age almost exclusively in my hands. Reading, in particular, where my hands and fingers frame the pages. The lines make little triangles and the skin just isn’t new anymore. I know my face and body also outwardly show age, but, to me, in a mirror, not so much. In my hands, though…

I’ve been listening to Depeche Mode’s discography… at least up to Music for the Masses, which is where I gave up as a kid. Maybe it’s the nostalgia, but these albums are minor masterpieces. A Broken Frame is on now, but I’ve been backwards through the LPs to this point already tonight and they are all so good. I have my older cousin Nathan to thank for introducing me to the band. They quickly became an obsession.

In 5th grade my best-bud Shaine and I swore we could make songs like Depeche Mode, if only we both had keyboards. Surely, with two keyboards, and all their built-in beats and tempos and pre-programmed sounds, we could make songs like Depeche Mode! We both asked for keyboards for Christmas, and we both got keyboards for Christmas. I actually remember being so excited to start composing. I should ask Shaine if he remembers it this way, or if it was only in my head…

Turns out, a keyboard does not a musician make. I am not sure if we ever seriously applied ourselves to the songwriting pursuit, but I do know that we have no singles to show for what effort we did make. I had that keyboard for along time, maybe even used it when we made the Renegade Collection in highschool. Wonder whatever became of it?


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