In the 1980s I fell in love with Barbra Streisand’s anthem for that decade, “Lullaby for Myself” from her album “Superman.” It was the time of celebration of a bleak truth that we are, at our core, discreet individuals, solitary entities, singularities. The joy of living alone, of owing no one an answer, of not sharing “a pair of pork chops when you crave champagne and cheese” – I was sold. My friend and I argued about the final lines – was it his interpretation: “If just one damn man could share the need/to be alone with me” a message that she wanted to be with someone else in spite of her cry for independence, or was it mine: “If just one damn man could share the need to be alone/with me,” suggesting she wanted a relationship but she also needed her alone time? We had several loud arguments over that line ending.
|Direction sign in an island park|
And sometimes, my lullaby for myself sounds better sung in harmony.