Bad Night at Black Rock

It’s a term a friend used to use for those nights you can’t sleep, can’t watch TV, can’t do much of anything but scramble inside your brain pan. It was his reply to me when I’d say, “c’mon, let’s go for a walk. Walking the halls is better than walking the walls.” I even tried a walk and, while it’s nice outside, it’s also damp, dark and just as creepy as what goes on inside my head on these kind of nights.
These are the nights when all the memories and might have beens get jumbled up together and thrown about in your thoughts so that you can’t quite pick out just what it is that is bugging you and keeping you awake. It is reminiscent of a far off storm. You know,when you think it’s the sounds of semis on the highway, but then you realize it’s the mutter of thunder in the distance instead. The hair on your neck stirs with the static laden air of lightning that’s not near enough to be seen. It’s just enough to give you the goose over grave shivers, but not let you know what’s up with the Universe.
I find myself craving a burger in a diner that no longer exists. I’ve checked theater times for films I cannot afford to go see and fares for flights to somewhere, anywhere but here. I am wondering who’s going or coming tonight as I tick off the names and faces that have passed beyond this kind of whisper laden wandering. Definitely whispering, not voices in my head but from it, in a way. The voices of those I’ve held, who held me, who I helped through nights like this as they’ve helped me. Strangest thing is, it has a soundtrack, from the late 60’s and 70’s, running too. Jimi, Janice, CCR, Dylan, Springfield and others. Maybe it’s my brother, haven’t seen or spoken to him in years. It might be, it fits the timeline.
Wish I could shake it, it’s hours until I can start to call around checking on folks so I guess I’ll just listen to the music of this bad night.


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