So Strange
Sep. 11th, 2022 05:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisnewdaySo it'd been raining all day and I didn't get to ride, although i might've earlier if my grandson hadn't picked up a Sunday shift and needed a ride to the restaurant.
Anyway, I decided i'd try to do something useful, with what was left of the day by that time, and was on my way to the Home Depot for furnace filters when I clicked on the car radio.
I didn't recognize his voice at first because, although I had all of his earlier albums, his voice had changed and his music and his songs since I'd last listened to him.
Not, you know, like it had after his motorcycle accident and the silence and the aftermath of that, but enough so I didn't know him right away.
But I loved the song and I listened and started to hear all the subtle things that endeared him to us as a person and as an artist.
And the the announcer, from the campus radio station said, "And OF COURSE that was Bob Dylan from his Modern Times album singing "Working Man Blues #2."
And I said, to my audience of no one, "Yeah, I know."
And I'm not honestly sure if it was Dylan who convinced me to finally say fuck this white collar life that my parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles all wanted for me, but he was definitely one of the dissenting voices that I was hearing back then.
Then I jotted down what the announcer had said on a discarded receipt I'd left on the console--so that, you know, I wouldn't forget--and walked into the HD.
While I was there, I got my filters and some cable ties for my bike computer.
All they had was a pack of 100 and I told the kid who was helping me I'd never use that many in the time I had left but maybe whoever came in to clean up after me could use them and we both laughed.
Then, as long as I was out, I stopped at Wegmans for a few things.
When I'd gotten into the car at the HD, I noticed the grocery list that I'd thought I'd lost. It must've fallen from my pocket earlier when I pulled out my phone and gotten stuck between the seat and the door.
So I went into the store and got what was on the list and a few other things I thought of. Then, when I was checking out, I realized I was in Emily's line.
She was a friend of my grandson's from high school and I 'd seen her there from time to time.
We'd never been introduced--my grandson was never good at things like that--but she's elfin-like and cute and she smiled and was friendly like they're supposed to be.
Then she bagged my stuff and I paid for it and wished her a good day.
Afterwards, as I was driving home, I clicked the radio on again and, I'll be damned, there he was again, singing "The Hour That the Ship Comes In."
And I wrote that one down too, even though I knew it, knew that I'd remember it, had known it from years before.
But it kind of got to me and, so strange, after I got home and was putting away the groceries, I cried a little when I noticed how perfectly Emily had bagged them up for me.
Because, you know, "the chains of the sea had busted in the night and were buried on the bottom of the ocean..."
LPK
Dreamwidth
9.11.2022
Anyway, I decided i'd try to do something useful, with what was left of the day by that time, and was on my way to the Home Depot for furnace filters when I clicked on the car radio.
I didn't recognize his voice at first because, although I had all of his earlier albums, his voice had changed and his music and his songs since I'd last listened to him.
Not, you know, like it had after his motorcycle accident and the silence and the aftermath of that, but enough so I didn't know him right away.
But I loved the song and I listened and started to hear all the subtle things that endeared him to us as a person and as an artist.
And the the announcer, from the campus radio station said, "And OF COURSE that was Bob Dylan from his Modern Times album singing "Working Man Blues #2."
And I said, to my audience of no one, "Yeah, I know."
And I'm not honestly sure if it was Dylan who convinced me to finally say fuck this white collar life that my parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles all wanted for me, but he was definitely one of the dissenting voices that I was hearing back then.
Then I jotted down what the announcer had said on a discarded receipt I'd left on the console--so that, you know, I wouldn't forget--and walked into the HD.
While I was there, I got my filters and some cable ties for my bike computer.
All they had was a pack of 100 and I told the kid who was helping me I'd never use that many in the time I had left but maybe whoever came in to clean up after me could use them and we both laughed.
Then, as long as I was out, I stopped at Wegmans for a few things.
When I'd gotten into the car at the HD, I noticed the grocery list that I'd thought I'd lost. It must've fallen from my pocket earlier when I pulled out my phone and gotten stuck between the seat and the door.
So I went into the store and got what was on the list and a few other things I thought of. Then, when I was checking out, I realized I was in Emily's line.
She was a friend of my grandson's from high school and I 'd seen her there from time to time.
We'd never been introduced--my grandson was never good at things like that--but she's elfin-like and cute and she smiled and was friendly like they're supposed to be.
Then she bagged my stuff and I paid for it and wished her a good day.
Afterwards, as I was driving home, I clicked the radio on again and, I'll be damned, there he was again, singing "The Hour That the Ship Comes In."
And I wrote that one down too, even though I knew it, knew that I'd remember it, had known it from years before.
But it kind of got to me and, so strange, after I got home and was putting away the groceries, I cried a little when I noticed how perfectly Emily had bagged them up for me.
Because, you know, "the chains of the sea had busted in the night and were buried on the bottom of the ocean..."
LPK
Dreamwidth
9.11.2022
