tyler lyle : notes from the parade : pinewood chests

I’ve already waxed on about just how much this Lyle fellow manages to blow me away. Get ready, I’m gonna do it again…

Today, a woman died. She was a woman without any family to speak of, her mother having died years ago, leaving her father and her to frantically and very seriously mourn her loss for years upon years. Her father, a man named Jack, possessed the ability to put his finger on a stack of one dollar bills and tell me exactly how many there were. He was 80 and his mind was a dagger. Late last year he died.

His daughter, this woman, had spent every second of her 60 years caring for her parents. She was never allowed to ride a school bus for her mother feared it would crash and she’d be left without a child. She was not allowed to play with cousins at the reunions and the making of friends was discouraged but really, she didn’t mind. She had her mother and father.

She lost Jack last year and while the rest of us mourned and carried on, she holed up in the house. She went to the post office occasionally and bought tv dinners and bologna at the grocery store once every couple weeks. She avoided people, even those of us that loved her so.

No one thought to check in on her when she didn’t empty her post office box for a month, her very much needed social security check languishing uncashed there in that dark metal hole. I didn’t think to stop and check on her when I noticed her front door ajar all weekend. I simply thought she was doing better, not missing Jack so much anymore, and that she wanted to see the sunlight out there. To watch the cars go by maybe, to be reminded there are people out there still alive. All the while, she was alone and done gone for the better of a month. No one even noticed.


I was listening to Tyler Lyle when Jack died. And today I’m listening to him again, unexpectedly, just as I’ve learned that the one connection to him has gone too, a death that will go unnoticed even in a town of gossips and prideful know-it-alls. I hadn’t planned to say anything to the internet about Jack and his kin and I certainly didn’t plan to write about death. But being directed to Notes From The Parade, which Lyle has put forth as a thank you to his fans, a portion of the population of which I’m a part, today and then finding this song seemed so goddamn serendipitous. I just couldn’t help myself.

Somehow, I feel better now. Like maybe it’s okay that we didn’t do what we thought we should do for the woman that died in her house, all alone, because there was nothing to be done anyway. That in the end, time does indeed move steady along. A similar tune for a different song.


Tyler Lyle :: Pinewood Chests [mp3]

Notes From The Parade :: BANDCAMP

PS – Read the ‘liner notes’. It’s worth 5 minutes of your valuable time.

PPS – Give this dude some of your money, seriously. I swear, if I find out you went over there and just took this shit and didn’t throw down at least like, your last 22 cents, then I’ma find you and fight you. With fists.

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