Having discovered Spalding Gray way too late in life, I can’t help feeling like a gaping hole opened up when he made him untimely exit shuffling off this mortal coil leaving the rest of us neurotics to fend for ourselves.
Selfishly, I’ve felt robbed. Like there were unspoken monologues that I needed to hear, but never would.
Like there were countless untold stories that I was supposed to be an audience for, that were instead buried six feet under with Spalding. (Yeah, yeah…it’s all about ME.)
That’s why I was more than a little excited today when I stumbled across James Braly.
His delivery…his perspective…seem to fit perfectly into that hole.
Without trying to BE him…and telling his own unique stories…it feels James is somehow picking up where Spalding left off.
And listening to James feels an awful lot like coming home.
