Over the Edge – August 28, 2026

I don't know if it's because I caught part two of Dr. Zhivago on the superstation last night, or because John just died, but I woke up the next morning feeling optimistic, unafraid of death, and ready to challenge the patriarchal state.

I had seen the most beautiful place It was a fruited plain with green, not amber, waves of grain stretching out as far as the eye could see.

The blue, blue sky was filled with incredible clouds, and bees without stingers were buzzing all around the tall grass that reached up to my pale mauve ariola.

The colors were beyond technicolor.

Was this Russia? Or South Dakota before Custer? It looked like a Chinese happy worker poster from the Cultural Revolution.

Or a, uh, yes, a Vincent Minelli film.

In the middle of the plain was an ancient oak tree with a canopy as big as a 747 wide-body jet.

The Santa Ana winds blew the branches of the tree, and the tall, tall grass, and the big, puffy clouds, and my long, naturally sun-streaked, honey-colored hair All in rhythmic unison, like tasty Hawaiian ocean waves.

I ran in slow motion ecstasy through the grass.

I ran in slow motion ecstasy through the grass.

I ran in

slow motion, ecstasy through the grass.

I

heard one of my dead friends smiling.

And I wonder, is this? Or just wishful thinking?

And I have no idea where any of that will slide into this, but we're going to be playing those sounds in just a little bit.

But we're going to listen to just a little bit of this frozen lake music first.

This is Frozen Over from 2015 by Cheryl Leonard from her new album, Watershed.