The City Of New Orleans

The City Of New Orleans

Good mornin’ America, how are ya?
Say, don’t you know me, I’m your native son
I’m the train they call The City of New Orleans
I’ll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.

Arlo Guthrie’s The City of New Orleans came out when I was 12. For a long time, it was my favorite song. I’m not a fan of country or folk music–or even Arlo Guthrie–but this song appealed to me in a way I really can’t fathom. In fact, the only reason I probably ever heard it was because it was a bust-out crossover hit. All the pop stations were playing it. I guess the only ones that weren’t were the classical and black stations.

Anyway, this song has been playing in my head lately, in an endless loop. Which means I could be in deep shit. See, it starts with a tune from my childhood, playing day and night. I go to sleep, it’s playing. I wake up, it’s playing. It’s like I can’t NOT hear it. Next comes the numbness. My emotions bottle up and nothing fazes me because nothing matters. Then I get the brain fog. It’s hard for me to think, to comprehend. It’s impossible for me to read. My ability to write is fucked, too. When that happens, I have no idea how I’m still able to do my job. And I can forget about trying to do creative work.

If I pass this point, thoughts of death arrive. The… Continue reading