We ventured out to the Saskatoon Symphony last night to hear them present the music of Pink Floyd.

I must confess, the only Pink Floyd song I knew before last night was the same one you all know – “Another Brick in the Wall.” I didn’t even know that Greg was a fan of the band! And what an eclectic crowd at the sold out concert  – blue jeans and suits, teenagers and senior citizens. All of them thoroughly enjoying themselves as the SSO and the band “Jeans and Classics” presented “The Wall” and “Dark Side of the Moon”.

Unfortunately, not knowing much about the band meant I also had no idea who Syd Barrett was, nor the sad story of his descent into schizophrenia just two years into the band’s rise in fame. It is obvious how deeply affected Roger Waters was by his friend’s mental illness; it’s a common theme running through many of the lyrics he penned.

While it made for a rather melancholy evening, it also reinforced yet again that we are not alone in our experience. The power of music is amazing; to heal, to inspire, to enlighten minds. And while music can also poke at our most raw and tender spots by suddenly evoking a  painful memory – there is a certain measure of gratitude that comes with hearing the truth of your story shared out loud.

Nobody’s Home

I’ve got a little black book with my poems in
I’ve got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in
When I’m a good dog they sometimes throw me a bone in
I got elastic bands keeping my shoes on
Got those swollen hand blues.
Got thirteen channels of shit on the T.V. to choose from
I’ve got electric light
And I’ve got second sight
I’ve got amazing powers of observation
And that is how I know
When I try to get through
On the telephone to you
There’ll be nobody home
I’ve got the obligatory Hendrix perm
And I’ve got the inevitable pinhole burns
All down the front of my favorite satin shirt
I’ve got nicotine stains on my fingers
I’ve got a silver spoon on a chain
I’ve got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains
I’ve got wild staring eyes
I’ve got a strong urge to fly
But I’ve got nowhere to fly to
Oh Babe when I pick up the phone
There’s still nobody home
I’ve got a pair of Gohills boots
And I’ve got fading roots.