Thursday, November 5, 2015

304

"New York is the kind of place where you have to get in your first serve." -Overheard overhead

Walking out of the door of the YMCA just now and I see the headline. "George H. W. Bush has mellowed on same sex marriage." Ha, still have a way to go, but nice to know people can change at at 91 years old.

I was listening to The Seeds this morning on the elliptical machine. Anyone familiar with The Seeds? They have a 15 minute long song called "Up in her room." It is based on a two note guitar riff and the  conceit of being -up in her room. About halfway through the keyboard player comes in. He is awesome. AWESOME. By that time I was dancing hard on the machine, flying at 10 mph. Felt like 100. Up in her room. 

I was thinking about love. So aptly portrayed in the building intensity of the song. About how when I was young i focused all of that incredibly magnetic and powerful feeling of being in love on one person. Hoping it would be reflected back forever. But it's impossible. It has to be tempered. Eventually you settle down and learn to disperse all of that great surge of feeling into 1000 fertile places, like seeds. A few grow.

I discovered The Seeds because I was sitting in the Queens Kickshaw with my dad. It was playing over the sound system. I was intrigued by the riff and so I used the SoundHound app to discover who the band was. Turns out it was a song from 1966 by a band I had never heard of before, The Seeds, "Up in her room."  As the song was still playing a well dressed woman in her late 20's came up to the window we were facing and looked my dad in his eyes, for several seconds, and smiled. It felt like a breach of reality. She stayed there smiling for an unusually long time. Dad reached down to spear a string bean with his fork. He pretended to hold it up and feed it to her, but by the time he looked up she was gone.

No comments:

Post a Comment