The term “freakism” was probably coined by the man jumping off the building here in 1970, Bart Howe. It was mostly a name we used for each other, a nod to those parts of us not in the mainstream. It grew to be a genuine “ism”, and also: a mantra, a rebel yell and outright babble at times.
Three decades have passed since we spent any time together; the last being a midwinter hike to the summit of Camel’s Hump, and an overnight stay under a Wolf Moon, where we fed the fire – literal and metaphorical – all night long.
Fast forward: I play music in nursing homes, and after one performance I emailed this little anecdote to a friend of mine:
“As I was packing up, this old gal with a rolling walker comes by, smiles and says ‘… nostalgic..’ and walks on. Inscrutable Zen Master, throwing down a koan !!! Yikes !!!”
And so I say there is more to nostalgia than first meets the mind’s eye.