I’m away to the Otago coast for a month by myself. The most company I will have is our old dog and the occasional seal on the beach. Back in the day, when our kids were small and clamorous, I would yearn to be alone for more than a stolen morning. Now that we are all grown up, I’m free to take off to a borrowed crib and attempt to bring forth a bit of writing.
Curious about how a month of solitude might feel, and being me, I’ve made a playlist to find some emotional cues. I can confirm that the bedrock of like a budget Bridget Jones. (Because it’s you, I’ve chosen Eric Carmen’s seven-minute, Rachmaninov-inspired album version for the playlist.) Or perhaps I’d queue up the Big O’s and weep in “pleasurable misery”, as Roy Orbison’s audiences were once described as doing. As part of this exploration of solitude, I’ve looked for interesting cover versions in the canon of sad tunes, hoping to hear old songs anew and divine something other than loneliness. A few notable exceptions – Elvis, Eric, Roy and Ricky – remain the gold standard and all subsequent versions be damned (looking at you, Céline Dion – get your talons off ).
