Musings: No regrets

It was a Sunday afternoon in the early fall of 1974 when Tom Rush took to the arena stage at the University of Maine at Orono. I think the tickets sold for something like four dollars, and it was a sellout crowd. Rush, then a well-known folk singer who grew up in Portsmouth,  egaled the crowd with his many popular songs that were still, in those days, more common to nascent FM and college radio stations. A St. Paul’s School and Harvard-educated New Englander, Tom and his often sad and haunting laments were right at home in Orono on that rosy autumn day so long ago.

One such song was the sweet and winding guitar delight called "No Regrets/Rockport Sunday," a contemplative pairing of ballads that included mixes of chords and picking in a way that still resonates today. Having just spent several magical summers in Rockport, Mass., the second part of that song meant even more to me. Those were the halcyon days of sea and sun and coming of age friendships, and when growing up was still an idea way out there on the horizon.