The name Detached first came to me as what to call a one-off magazine project I thought up during a trip to San Francisco in February of-1981. Spending an hour looking at a bunch of artsy, publications of all sorts on the magazine rack in the famous City Lights Bookstore did the trick.By In the spring of '81 Detached, the 'zine" was on its way to becoming a stylish collection of comix-style art created by several friends of mine. It was also to include a flexi-disc, so I was writing music and comedy material for aspect of the scope of Detached. A small group of us rehearsed some of the comedy stuff once or twice.
Although some good black and white comics were submitted, this was one of those ambitious, far-flung projects that got away from me. It was never produced.
Yes, I still feel guilty about it.
Somewhere in a box I may still have a few of the submissions. Fortunately, some of the material and notions for Detached did make their way into a few of the early issues of SLANT .. but that's another story. A meandering story about a quirky periodical that I did publish for some nine years.
In the spring of 1985, Detached, as a title, was repurposed. It became the name for a song. It was one of many songs I invented during a walk. Sometimes I used to make up songs during the course of solitary walks. The cadence of my steps would serve as the beat. It was a routine practice that started when I was a kid, then went on for decades.
In the spring of 1985, Detached, as a title, was repurposed. It became the name for a song. It was one of many songs I invented during a walk. Sometimes I used to make up songs during the course of solitary walks. The cadence of my steps would serve as the beat. It was a routine practice that started when I was a kid, then went on for decades.
When I finished the walk I'd almost always forget the new song. Sometimes that was a little frustrating, because I had liked it. Other thoughts hatched during a walk, like solutions to problems, goofy inventions, fun-loving schemes and so forth, would occasionally stick in my head long enough to be written down when I got home. But not the songs.
Anyway, I think I stopped making up walking songs it sometime during my 40s. Hey, it just occurred to me that I also quit torturing my chromatic harmonicas -- mostly with records -- in my 40s, too. Probably not a coincidence.
Most of my walking songs were sort of like dreams that evaporate moments after waking up. However, here are the words to Detached, a song I didn't forget. The tune had kind of a jazzy, South of the Border feel to it.
D E T A C H E D
I want to thank you pal
for helping out
while I went crazy.
It wasn’t just fun.
Still, it had to be done.
Beauty mark and a ponytail.
Hey!
The check’s in the mail.
De-tached.
When focus wheeled
the float and sway.
Life seemed so easy.
It wasn’t just fun.
Still, it had to be done.
Still, it had to be done.
Smokey edges of a photograph.
Hey!
We just had to laugh.
De-tached.
*
Now I use Detached as a title for a group of short stories.
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