SO MANY PEOPLE HAVE COME AND GONE

Guilty pleasure.

More Than a Feeling—Boston

The walls in my sister’s room were painted red. Red as a toreador’s cape and the blood of a bull.

She hung beads in the entryway to her room, at a 90-degree angle to the door, from ceiling to floor.

On the door was pinned a cardboard star, about 7” across from point to point, covered with fluttery tin foil.

As a kid, I was more likely to hover in the hallway outside her room than to actually enter.

When I was 7 and she was 15, she moved out. Went to live in New Jersey, and then Minnesota, with a motocross racer who had three fingers on his right hand.

Several years later she was back on the East Coast, living in Vermont.

I went to visit her, and came across the first Boston album as I was thumbing through her record collection. I had just discovered this album, and was developing a preadolescent allegiance to it.

For the first time, I perceived a point of intersection between us. A shared interest.

And it was more than a feeling…