Some years ago I had a thought about the world and how it's constantly changing in imperceptible but inevitable ways. People move on and new ones come in their place. But the chemistry of the place is altered. Not so you'd notice day to day but over the course of a few years the complexion of the culture is transformed. I wondered once, years ago, when the day would come when everyone born before TV was invented would pass away. Impossible to know but a real milestone. Or when the living memory of World War II would cease to exist. One day there will be no one left who remembers the world before smart phones or the Internet. Kris Kristofferson was one of those figures always on the periphery of my awareness. He was the gruff-voiced guy you'd see in smaller movies or on TV specials or the pages of People Magazine. His songs travelled through the airwaves like arrows. He was a certain kind of 20th Century Man. The kind going slowly extinct a little, maybe. Rooted in the kinds of values learned when the country (the world?) was more rural, less urban. Focused on craftsmanship. I saw him differently when I found out that he wrote Sunday Mornin' Coming Down. It's the sort of song that might have flown past you on an AM car radio in between the gas station and the hardware store on a Saturday afternoon. But years later you hear it all the way to its core and it's a kind of elegy for a whole world that has inexorably become something it wasn't just the day before...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXSl-cuv_iE