Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Jon Ashley
It's both a reassuring and terrifying concept to believe that whatever will be is just going to be, that there's no getting around it. You have the time-space continuum and the thought that if you were able to go back in time and alter things, Stephen King maintains that time would do everything in its power to try and stop that from happening, as if it could sense what you were up to and create the diversions or delays just enough to upset any of your attempts. It seems to me that if time travel were possible, Mr. King's theory makes a lot of sense. Destinies were never written to be fucked with. They are destinies for a reason and they are going to happen, like it or not. You choose the beds that you sleep in always, but they were the beds you were going to sleep in all along. You only half created them and even that's debatable.
It sure is intriguing to see where it's all going. Sometimes we can find ourselves playing the roles of the bystanders, just watching what we're doing and what we're saying, with an extra large soft drink in one hand and a popcorn in the other, as if we were moviegoers. It's wonderful believing that you might not have to work too hard to get any of this right. It might be that none of it was going to turn out right anyway so just having a good viewpoint for the show is good enough. The horrible thing about it is when we stop to realize that this has to do with love as well and that's where we draw the line about not being in control. It's never a good feeling to have matters of the heart formulate, linger and disappear without us being able to make any of the calls.
The stories that the married folk duo of Sarah Lee Guthrie (the daughter of Arlo and granddaughter of Woody) and Johnny Irion write are filled with these ideas of having to just deal with the many examples of love being chosen for you and hoping that it's all gonna work out. It's certainly not all based on a blind faith that can't be altered or tinkered with, but most of it involves something akin to that Cupid with his bow and misguided, but powerful and poisonous arrow. It gets aimed and it strikes where it strikes. The way things work after that isn't entirely drawn out, but some inferences can be made. There are things that can be counted on and it all creates a beautiful batch of footwork and the dancing that goes along with it. Guthrie and Irion sing these perplexing hexes for us just the way they'd sing about the shades falling as night casts once again, as we've seen it cast a thousand times. We expect the nights to be this way and we expect love to act familiarly, however that's always been for us.