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The sermon for Nov. 16, 2003 is: here at aphelion 5:16 a.m. I was driving by night, like Ida Lupino. I drive a lot these evenings, going nowhere especially; basically describing widening and ever-widening circles, like a falcon's lost its falconer. Anyway. Tonight I was driving through lemon orchards in the rain, singing to the radio, switching FM stations. A Beach Boys song came on, and I sang along, marvelling at Brian Wilson, his clever inversion of Phil Spector just three steps (six sharps) away from outright plagiarism. I turned the volume knob louder to drown out my swinging, and sang louder. Only then did I start to pay attention to the words I had been singing. Don't worry, baby, the words went. Everything will be allright. Don't worry, baby. Suddenly I wished someone would sing these words to me. I started crying, driving in the night and the rain. Because of a Beach Boys song.
 
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