The Sun in Your Eyes by Deborah Shapiro Page B

audience. And I suspected she was only capable of caring about Lee’s well-being because she believed she had finally eclipsed her. I had never spent much time with Kirsten alone. I hadn’t realized how much Lee’s presence had kept her in check. Kirsten had acquired a triumphant yet breezy authority that, like a gas, filled the space where Lee would have been.
    What Kirsten had meant as a slight—how fortunate Andy and I were to be so easily satisfied with each other—resonated strongly. Listening to her talk, I did feel lucky to be with Andy. Still, I remained awed by Kirsten’s restless momentum. Lee’s too. But if Kirsten, out of nowhere, had asked me to drop everything and hit the road with her, I would have said no without even blinking.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  What would you say to those detractors or critics who’ve said your work can be repetitive? That perhaps—and I’m not saying I feel this way—that too many of your songs sound the same?
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Well, I guess I would say it’s all the same song. They’re right. In the wrong way.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  That’s quite a koan.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Yeah, I should get it printed up, make some fortune cookies.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  That would be an interesting sideline for you.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Put it on some T-shirts. A real merchandising opportunity.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Does that bother you? That maybe it’s becoming more about the marketing than the music?
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  It’s always been about the marketing. As long as there’s been a market. You’re setting me up for these, I swear. [Laughter from the audience]
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Okay. Different subject. Is it true you believe in flying saucers?
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Flying saucers?
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  I’ve read that you’ve been to a flying saucer convention.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Oh. Yes. My wife took me there.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  It’s your wife, then, who believes in aliens?
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Oh, I think the aliens believe in her. [More laughter from the audience]
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Do you get a lot of ideas from your wife?
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  I get a lot of ideas from a lot of places. I’m easily influenced. I’m very, uh, I’m very permeable. [Laughter, cheers] But, yes, Linda. She’s right there. She can tell you. [Applause and shuffling, as a microphone is brought to Linda]
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Hi, Jesse.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Hi, Linda.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Well, I think I understand those aliens now! Linda West, everybody. [Applause from the audience]
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Aren’t you gonna ask me how we met?
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Sure. How did you two meet?
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  At a party. In the kitchen. At her boyfriend’s house.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Whoa there, this is national television. You’re scandalizing us, Jesse.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  You and the kitchen, man.
    This interview used to be hard to find, bonus material at the end of a Jesse Parrish import box set. Now you could download it in seconds. You could be anywhere. You could be driving up the Hutchinson River Parkway, through Westchester, in 2010, listening to Jesse in 1970. How transporting it was. I needed it in order to feel involved in this world and justified in leaving my own. And to not feel quite so guilty for