There were books about the Kabbalah I obtained as a teenager with introductions that warned readers the material wasn’t meant to be read by anyone other than people in their 40s who have had children, something like that and I thought to myself “oh ya? I’m reading it right now. How do you like that?” But the truth is, it didn’t make any sense to my teenage self, so boring. But as life went about its business and I eventually became a middle aged father I remember that preface and now sort of identify with the thinking behind whoever wrote it. Certain things you can’t understand until some time has passed. The kid is getting the flu. Now I can’t let her sleep over a her friend’s house. The parents of the friend don’t want their daughter also getting sick. She can’t understand why I would stop her, cries and concludes I’m never to be trusted. When I saw Evan Parker in 1988 at Clintons I was destroyed by his effortless unrelenting 40 minutes of circular breathing. Also blown away as he persisted and musically took us to more and more heights of surrealism and every few minutes more people got up to make their exit.