Never know what decade of music I might choose next. This one is one of the prettiest of Gordon Lightfoot’s songs, which you may never have heard.

Empty Chair, Empty Heart

The spotlight sweeps across the front row and the empty seat. Jazz’ seat.

From studio sessions, recording, concert dates, writing, playing, in the back of my mind I’d wondered what it all meant if I couldn’t share it with her?

Michelle sends me a thumbs up, but my eyes can’t unsee the empty spot. There’s a hollowness inside, the ultimate feeling of abandonment, the recurring dream where I’m running after her only to have her disappear through door after door, each closing before I get there, each hallway empty. When I waken, I only see her eyes in that moment when I hung our friendship out to dry. When I told her, that if she cared about me, she’d do what I want because I had waited around so long for her, knowing all the while that I hadn’t been waiting for her but for my chance, my big opportunity, which had suddenly become linked to her. And what kind of opportunity was that?

Tomorrow’s Baltimore, then Philly, Cleveland. A tour heading away from her and toward what I’ve always wanted. Or thought I wanted. Success feels like an empty shell now.

end

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