Tears for a singer
The best part of living with my roomate is that he usually makes me see something enjoyable in the world that I would have otherwised walked past. I mean this figuratively and literally.

Jack, my roomate, is also a classic joiner. He is a member of many organizations and clubs. He also has more subscriptions than a library. Fortunately for me, one of his subscriptions is to NetFlix. Every few days or so a little white package with a DVD featuring some film that right off of Blockbuster's "New Release" shelf. Thanksgiving weekend we had A Home at the End of the World. It is based on the Michael Cunningham (The Hours) novel by the same name.

The movie was uneven and left me a little cool by the end but I was game for reading the novel which my roomate owned. The book was better than the film but this is not a film or book review. Who cares about either? I suppose Mr. Cunningham probably cares.

In the film, there is a scene in which Sissy Spacek, playing one of the lead character's mother, discovers marijuana and the musical stylings of Laura Nyro simultaneously. It happens a bit different in the book but that is so not the point. The point is Laura Nyro. I had never heard of her before that film but I seem to love her now. After seeing the film and reading the novel, I had to check out some Laura Nyro. I downloaded a couple of songs and fell in love with her sound. I decided to learn more about the artist. I started googling this afternoon and enjoyed reading about her career in the 60's, 70's, and 80's. Then I came across information that she had died in 1997.

Emotions can be so strange. I did not know Laura Nyro. I have never met members of her family. I hadn't even heard of her until a director decided to play her recording of "It's Gonna Take A Miracle" in a film. Yet there I sat at my computer trying to hold back my tears. I don't know if I was crying for the singer or the voice. It must be the voice.