Interesting. Perhaps the leads I failed to find in Boston will come to you from your local Joni. It seems fitting that as soon as I leave the town, a possibly significant reference to it shows up elsewhere. It bears hallmarks of the Obfuscationist modus operandi; You look right, there's nothing there; you look left and they tell you to look right again.
I was unaware of the Boston Mass and now wonder if this is some kind of religious (or quasi-religious) festival or a celebration of something large in physical scale or scale of production. Or rather, even, Boston Mass is some kind of condition providing gravity through mass to attract all things. Perhaps due to Boston Mass, all things must gravitate toward [or from] Boston.
Your mention of the album title Songs To A Seagull causes me to recall the French artist and funambulist Philippe Petit who, while crossing an illegally rigged highwire between NYC's World Trade Centre towers in the '70s, paused to lie back on his 3/4" cable hundreds of metres above the Earth's surface and carry out a dialogue with a seagull circling a few tens of feet above him. It strikes me now that perhaps Searly is in a metaphorically similar position and is, as such, untouchable by the man of average means. Perhaps we will have to wait for him to cross the threshold at the time of his choosing and once again become accessible in a more general capacity.
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