There’s nothing quite like flying along Colorado 9 and US 285 through the Pike National Forest with the windows down, listening to Rush’s MOVING PICTURES with my 13-year old and 9-year old. The heads rocked and the questions flew. Who was Tom Sawyer? Why did the government pass a “motor law”? Canadians really say “zed”? Why do the band tour if they don’t like the light? Are people in New York really mangular? Did they find the witch? What’s the norm?
At one level, it’s nearly impossible to believe that I was first 13–the age of my Harry–when I first heard MOVING PICTURES. And, yet, at another level, I don’t really remember a time when MOVING PICTURES wasn’t a part of my life, even though I remember so vividly my first listen.
What an honor it is to share it and my memories with my own children. And, I’m reminded–as I hear the album through different ears–how intelligent MOVING PICTURES was and remains.
It’s rock for the non-average human!