I was in a disastrous marriage, and things were far from hitting rock bottom. A new car had been bought, which should have been a glorious moment, driving the streets and avenues of Manhattan in a fast little buggy. Instead, she was trying to run people over, the last ones crossing the street before the light changed. She thought it was hilarious, gunning the engine and nipping at their posh American heels. She could easily have killed someone. I was mortified, trapped, my voice lost to less than a whisper. I was treading water and the boat was sinking. I could tell no one about bizarre the life I was living.
A song came on the radio.
I did not recognize the voice, old and wise. World-weary would be an understatement. It was Kris Kristofferson, singing Broken Freedom Song. That song held me together. I was not alone trying to manage the madness, thanks to him.
“That’s the price of being human.” He sang.
I tracked the CD down (there were still CDs back then). I played it over and over. It was a mantra, an understanding, a sermon, a prayer. Kris Kristofferson the soldier, the janitor, the guy who found some luck, the man who had the greatest friends, fights with bottles, fame and some fortune, but always that songwriter, that musician alone in a room with a guitar plumbing the depths, digging for diamonds in the mine.
He died a few weks ago, and the very word “freedom” is tumbling around as much as it ever was. We are at a moment in time when freedom is no longer an assumption, a presumed option, or even a promise. It is at risk in every corner. To say an artist can see the future is to simply look at the world, and what madness is possible. No flinching, just writing it down, and someday it may be of help, some comfort, some use. He saw all of this coming, from a million miles away.
Thank you, Kris.
Got a song about a savior,
lookin' lonesome and afraid
at a city full of strangers,
and a cross he never made.
And he's sadder than he's wiser,
and a longer way from home.
And he wonders why his father,
left him bleeding and alone.
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