It was a few days ago that I entered the busy sandwich shop, ordered my lunch and was given a number to wait with that I struck by the song on the mid day radio. From those opening piano keys to the strings and key board, "November Rain" majestically swooshed through the air. An oldie but a goody by Guns n' Roses, a song they just don't write 'em like anymore.
As I listened the moment became more profound than I thought it could be, it was hearing my youth as classic rock for the first time. When I say youth I don’t mean when I was little boy, learning his ABCs I mean it was 1991, when I was a sinewy, long haired, testosterone motored 18 year old with more attitude than ambition and more desire than focus. I was also very unsure of what was to become of me as I was living 3,000 miles from Boston trying to follow my heart with no job and no place to call home. I was 19 watching the video in a Best Western Hotel room in Boulder wondering how to get back to California, how to make a success out of myself when I had no passion I could articulate or hope to actualize. Now I was in my late thirties back in California having achieved little in the realm of possibilities open to me eighteen years ago.
It wasn’t too strange to understand why I wondered what the song wanted from me that day. It was siren’s call of the past in a nostalgic, wistful rendering of my younger days when the future was uncertain but possibly as explosive as a nuclear A-bomb.
enjoy the film
on a related note; how come the alternative music station plays "Sweet child O' Mine" now?
It wasn’t too strange to understand why I wondered what the song wanted from me that day. It was siren’s call of the past in a nostalgic, wistful rendering of my younger days when the future was uncertain but possibly as explosive as a nuclear A-bomb.
enjoy the film
on a related note; how come the alternative music station plays "Sweet child O' Mine" now?
are you ok, babeez?
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