Here’s what happened today:
I found a song.
It hit me.
I hit: REPEAT.
…and then, exhausted my laptop battery entirely on the music.
Never bored, only soaking.
Wishing I had life-size speakers to blare the words.
It’s called “In your Atmosphere,” By John Mayer. Live.
“Wishing I had life-size speakers to blare the words.”
This makes me think of a picture.
I saw it in a magazine today: It was Bright colors and Broad daylight.
It was a girl jumping in the air with a megaphone.
Not a cheerleader, just a voice.
She wanted everyone to hear.
Looking at her determined face, it was hard to assign a label.
Should I deem her NAIEVE or HEROIC?
OBNOXIOUS or BRAVE?
A difficult question,
but I knew that the image was me.
“By John Mayer. Live.”
This makes me think of the highway.
I love live music because of my Dad. Because of my night drives in his passenger’s seat. He drove a Saturn with the sun roof open. The engine was loud and untrustworthy, but the stereo? Loyal. Freebird was his senior class song. He knows all the guitar solos. He knows that before Sweet Home Alabama, Johnny Van Zant yells “Turrrn it up!”
He knows all the Oooo Oooo’s and Oh Yeahhh’s.
He can tell me where he was when he decided he loved the song.
And now we can sing you The Eagles. Bob Segar. Bruce Springstein. Boston. Eric Clapton. America. James Taylor. Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Because my Dad’s engine was loud, unpredictable.
But his stereo has always been loyal.
And now we can sing together.
John Mayer is singing “I don’t think I’m gonna go to LA anymore.”
This makes me think “I know what you mean, but I still want to.”
I went there once, with the Jordan boy I write about sometimes.
He had never been to the beach at night, and while we stood on the sand, I stared down the ferris wheel. It was a distant circle of lights. I wished we would go. Things got in the way.
I did go to LA again.
It was barely September, a Sunday night.
I was on that same beach, in my church clothes again.
But the lights didn’t seem so distant anymore.
I felt the difference.
The hope that their promise would only seem closer
Adventuring drive toward the coast.
I sent my words into that night,
Declaring that when I came to LA again,
“You best bet I will ride that ferris wheel.”
I am a strange girl, needing to type out all these thoughts before I can get back to life. But this is my life, here in the kitchen, scrawling for words. And that’s enough for me, even if I can’t make you see what those lights mean.