So, blog fodder of late has been pretty far from scintillating. And I've been crap at keeping in touch or holding conversations. I don't mean this as a complaint, but at the moment, my energy is divided up between two things and two things alone- school and a friend who is going through hell. And neither of those make for very entertaining blog subjects.
Instead, I'll hide behind my favorite topic. You know what I love most about getting older? The way I feel increasingly comfortable embracing whatever the crap song I want to and proclaiming that I have infinite fondness for it. Sometimes, it's not even shame that held me back previously, just a lack of awareness. Especially with old songs. So old that they're sort of in our fabric. You don't think of these songs as good or bad, just as you wouldn't think of the moon as being good or bad- it's been around forever, it's always there, it provides you with light and darkness.
Yesterday I was doing the drive that I sometimes do, the one that takes me through an hour of doldrums to get to the promised land. On such drives, and with such thoughts as I have recently had on my mind, having good songs to keep me company becomes paramount. But yesterday's trip was a bit impromptu and, therefore, I had not planned out good musical selections. So I had to rely on the radio. This usually means I wind up on some country station, listening to some truly gut-wrenching song and wondering how in the world such lyrics are always confined to country songs.
But instead of that, I was just coming down a long stretch of freeway, dipping down and then climbing up. Just as the descent began, Baby, I need your loving miraculously presented itself on the radio. I know that some people will read this and think The Four Tops, really? That's your miracle? Go figure, but people, revisit the song. There is something transcendental about it.
Maybe it had such an impact on me yesterday because it's a song about longing, about losing something and wanting it back. The song very nearly celebrates its predicament. It sees the beauty in the mess, in the tragedy, in the business of offering up a bruised and frightened heart to someone who might well stomp on it. For some reason, I needed to hear that yesterday.
Also- it's got that groove thang, which doesn't hurt either.
Friday, August 01, 2008
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