There’s a methadone clinic not far from where I live. It’s on the edge of Fairmount Park, not far from where people picnic, play old world games like cricket, where children touch the world with their hands and where the music from the Mann Center is not strong enough to muffle demons. We pass this opiate addiction treatment center often and see the patients make their daily trek to save themselves. It’s not always a pretty sight, but I imagine addiction is a horrible beast and to fight it requires all your soul. Some people, I guess, aren’t up for the fight.
I was sad, really sad, to learn today of Amy Winehouse’s death, which occurred yesterday. I love her sound, her style and her seeming disappointment with the world. What I appreciate most about Amy was how her sound and style opened my ears to other singers I might have not discovered so easily on my own-Aretha Franklin, Otis Redding, and Sam Cooke.
May she rest in peace.
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