Re: The Disaffected/The Entertainer
Miles wasn't so sure that protecting kids came natural to everyone. There was a widespread belief that parenthood made for good parents, but that was just some 1950s bullshit in his opinion. Parents were as flawed and fucked up as everyone else. There was no magic moment when you lost all your own baggage just because you brought a life into the world. He had no children of his own and he wasn't intending to start the practice now. It was like that Eagles song, and the road sure wasn't no place to start a family. "Glad we're not all bad," he said of adults. He sounded entertained. He hadn't spent much time with disenfranchised youth lately. He was somewhat glad that he hadn't produced any of that ilk too.
"Musicians get laid. Roadies get laid. Music is about getting laid." Point of fact. He got laid plenty, but that wasn't always a way to fend loneliness off. Tonight he felt that old loneliness deep in his bones, and there wasn't a groupie around to momentarily take the edge off. He'd drink instead, which he did when the drink came. He'd talk, which he was doing with this child at his side. "I didn't claim to know what sort of out of the ordinary, but I don't see how a regular person could be doing this. Even two regular people would have themselves a hard time. I think the interesting thing to muse is where people go if they aren't stored somewhere or left on the tracks."