Sunday, February 2, 2014

soundtrack

I leaned forward and stabbed at the radio button. The hysterical vitamin seller was replaced by music. Ahhhhhhhh. Oldies.
The last notes of a song trailed away and a new one began.
I pulled up to the light and flicked on my turn signal.
A voice began to sing.
Music seemed to well up and surround me and the strangest thing happened.
I remembered.
It was the song.
The music.
It was as though I remembered being nineteen.
No, that's not it.
For a moment, I swear, I WAS nineteen.
I felt such an overwhelming flood of the strongest, sweetest sort of recollection.
I felt the extreme emotion, the extremeness of that age, that moment in time.
It was so potent; passion and angst in equal portions.
The singer just kept on singing and my euphoria changed to tears right on cue as the lyrics shifted.
I cried for two blocks.
Fortunately Gordon Lightfoot followed and jarred me back to my senses.
I rolled my eyes at myself but when I began to sing the song a few miles later, I choked on the words.
Music, the soundtrack of our lives.

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