For some reason, I've had snippets of the album Meat is Murder by the Smiths stuck in my head. About 25 years ago, about this time or so, that album was the soundtrack of my life at the time. "The Headmaster Ritual," "Rusholme Ruffians," and "The Joke Isn't Funny Anymore" in particular were the ones that really got traction.
I was very much in love at the time, but I had much to learn about what that was going to mean or become.
I attended three summer camps that year; a one-week program at West Point, a one-week program at the Naval Academy, and the Governor's School, a four-week program at Radford University at for the fine arts. That was the summer that made me realize that my future did not lie back in my hometown, but that I was destined to go elsewhere. It was that week at West Point that was perhaps most memorable, for the direction my life took a year later. It was that week that was punctuated by that Smiths album.
But that was a long time ago.
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