While on my soggy walk home from work the streets were filled with people looking for a good time and people who'd had too much fun already. The swanky bars in my neighbourhood had line ups and covers, neither of which I could afford. So, I found a dirty, dark, dank place that smelled like cedar, wet dog and drowned sorrows. I think I looked good when I left the house this morning but it has been 14 hours since then and I've been rained on, twice. The rain waited until I had blown my hair dry, put my makeup on and forgotten my umbrella. When I bellied up to the bar I was greeted by a sarcastic smile and a furrowed brow. Aww c'mon now, I was already feeling poorly; tired, wet and worn. Ordering a bottle of Pabst blue ribbon, the keeper of the bar slids it down the unfinished surface at me. Catching the frosty bottle I fell into the rhythm of the retro music; C'mon Ilene and Dancing on the ceiling while sipping my smooth blue ribbon. Music soothing this soggy savage beast. It amazed me how much better I finally felt.
I have always been a musical person but when I used to go to concerts , but I never loved them as much as I do now. Maybe I wasn't seeing the right bands at the right venues. A few coloured spotlights and some atmospheric smoke can make a huge difference, turning an album into a experience. Having a sound guy who knows his space is a plus too. Turns out that these things change the way you feel about the music. I am lucky to have Hubby expolring new musical territories while I work; coming home to a new favourite every few days.
Songs have a way of attaching themselves to our memory banks. Investing our lives with a soundtrack. I have started making regular deposits, accruing interest. Songs about wanting things to stay the same or sorry that things changed. Waiting for a wanting to end. How a few lively guitars can sound; then add a trumpet or string quartet and shift your state of mind. So, I sit quiet and calm at this reclaimed bar. Filling out a memory bank withdrawal slip, I think of youth and love, life and loss. My stringy damp hair sticking to my face as I start to sing along, beer in my hand, a song on my lips and in my heart. Loving the music I've listened to all my life and learning to be Myself again, though a slightly soggy version. So, I thought how-ABBAout I say thank you for the music, for giving it to me:)
I have always been a musical person but when I used to go to concerts , but I never loved them as much as I do now. Maybe I wasn't seeing the right bands at the right venues. A few coloured spotlights and some atmospheric smoke can make a huge difference, turning an album into a experience. Having a sound guy who knows his space is a plus too. Turns out that these things change the way you feel about the music. I am lucky to have Hubby expolring new musical territories while I work; coming home to a new favourite every few days.
Songs have a way of attaching themselves to our memory banks. Investing our lives with a soundtrack. I have started making regular deposits, accruing interest. Songs about wanting things to stay the same or sorry that things changed. Waiting for a wanting to end. How a few lively guitars can sound; then add a trumpet or string quartet and shift your state of mind. So, I sit quiet and calm at this reclaimed bar. Filling out a memory bank withdrawal slip, I think of youth and love, life and loss. My stringy damp hair sticking to my face as I start to sing along, beer in my hand, a song on my lips and in my heart. Loving the music I've listened to all my life and learning to be Myself again, though a slightly soggy version. So, I thought how-ABBAout I say thank you for the music, for giving it to me:)
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