Fifty-Eight Today

High Egoslavian Holy Day! Jane Siberry is fifty-eight today, her music is inextricably woven into my memories of my first years with Earthgirl, the concerts, especially ones at Goucher College in Towson and in Gaston Hall (Hamster was there) one hundred yards from my cubicle at Georgetown (when she sang an ethereal Calling All Angels even though she'd shifted by then into her one album incarnation as a jazz chanteuse at that stage, before the one album incarnation into a kid's song writer, before decided she didn't want to be Jane Siberry anymore and reinvented herself as Issa, whose music and art I respect but don't love). When we visit the marina in Deale, the first place we shared, my brain's radio plays Jane Siberry, when I drive by the house in Glen Echo that was next my brain's radio plays Jane Siberry.




  
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