25 or 6 to 4

January 16, 2026 - Vol. 20, No. 3 - Aside from the Bibical reference, an epiphany is defined as a "sudden insight or realization." While that insight may come suddenly, that doesn't mean that the process of achieving that insight did not percolate in one's subconscious for a long time. I had an epiphany just this week that I actually have been ruminating about in the deep recesses of my mind since the time of my high school graduation in June 1970. That was the same month as group calling itself The Chicago Transit Authority released as a single the song that has since held place as my favorite, 26 or 6 to 4. I've always thought I knew the reasons I love that song. But it was this week, I came to the ultimate realization of why.

First, let me tell you about the song, itself. It was written by Robert Lamm and it describes the sometimes agonizing creative process that goes into writing a song. Instead of describing how Lamm created the song, you can hear from the source, himself, by clicking on this link to an interview he had with Dan Rather. If you clicked on this link earlier, recorded live in 1970, you will see (and hear) famed vocalist Peter Cetera playing the famous opening riff on his bass guitar and the late Terry Kath playing the amazing guitar solo. It is an infectuous song, sometimes misunderstood. The authorities in Singapore once banned it because of its alleged drug content. (If you looked at the Rather interview, you'll hear that drugs had little to do with it.) I feel I'm in love with it for a number of reasons, not the least of which was that it was a popular song at the very moment in my life, high school graduation, where I was beginning to leave the nest and launch out on my own. It was a happy, scary, exhilarating and remarkably open-ended moment in my life. The song reflected my mood. But, unlike most popular hits on the radio, this one continued to stick with me through the years. It was never, in at least my mind, relegated to the dustbin of most Top 40 hits.

It is important to understand that folks my age, those who grew up in the 1960s, are practically morally obliged to say "The Beatles" when asked who is their favorite group of all-time. Don't let me wrong: I love the Beatles. But now that I am in my 70s and don't really care what most people think, I'm proud to proclaim Chicago as my favorite. It's not that I really identified with the band members, a long haired and liberal-minded crew out of the urban streets of the Windy City. Hell, I was a rural, Republican clean-cut kid from Maryland's Eastern Shore. The only member I really had a connection with was Jimmy Panko, who successfully mastered the trombone, an instrument I failed miserably at during the eighth grade. Still, I was amazed at their collaboration and amazing string of hit after hit after hit. And, perhaps, there was an aspirational aspect: An Eastern Shore boy wishing he could be like his rock and roll heroes. Fortunately, considering some of the destructive behaviors of the group - including the accidental gunshot death of Kath - I never did become one of the boys in the band.

Beyond that which I described, I never gave a lot of thought as to why I so much admired the group and this particular song - that is, until earlier this week. Because of hip and back problems, I have not slept very well for the better part of year. More nights than not, I have slept in my living room recliner, the only place I could come close to being comfortable. Often, when can't sleep, I'll slip on the ear buds and listen to music to relax me. As you may imagine, Chicago is a frequent group of choice. And, yes, 25 or 6 to 4 is a mandatory selection. On the night in question, as the final chords faded, I turned off the music and glanced at the clock. Not wearing my glasses, it wasn't sure whether it was 3:35 a.m. or 3:34 a.m. And then it struck me: It was, literally, 25 or 6 to 4. I thought about the hundreds of times I have been barely awake and not quite asleep at that hour during the years. Throughout my life, I have always had trouble sleeping. The reasons varied from dealing with loneliness or unrequited love in my youth, career-related issues into adulthood, or tragedy and health-related issues in my later years. Yes, I admit that the Maryland Terrapins and the Baltimore Orioles occasionally disturbed my slumbers, as well. And then came the epiphany: The song isn't about Robert Lamm's creative process, but my own. I have gone through my days reinventing myself and constantly adjusting the trajectory of my life - often at the expense of a good night's sleep. To me, the song is about a sleep-deprived boy from Royal Oak, Maryland, always trying to figure out - to borrow inspiration another from Chicago song - Where Do We Go From Here?

I hope you found this personal journey interesting - although I did say that at my age, I don't really care what others think. I wanted to write it because I am sick and tired about writing about America's dysfunctional politics. At times like these, it is often best to look inside ourselves to define our journey. I certainly will get back to writing about the daily dramas soon. But, for now, I choose to veer down another path while waiting for the break of day. That's it for now. Fear the Turtle. (Photo by David Guth)