Monday, October 17, 2011

my fork has a crooked tine

I have a friend named Lou. She passed away several years ago, but there are times when things make me remember her. Times when it feels like she's visiting. Nothing flies across the room on it's own and there are no strange shadows moving around the room. She's WAYyy to subtle for that.

There is the music, for instance. Lou sang. Well. Like crazy. She loved music, and it was part of who she was. I'm sure that all of her friends have some kind of musical memory of her. One of mine is being at Estrella War (an SCA event in Arizona) and the two of us discovering that we both enjoyed Joan Armatrading. Pretty soon we were walking across the event site, belting out "I Love it When You Call Me Names." It was a bonding moment.

Well, I have a little MP3 player, and it has a pretty good variety of music on it. This past week, I cam across my little speakers that I use with it, and then I found the player, and I set it up in my bedroom, and I can listen to it while I work. The player is set up on shuffle, which should randomize the playlist, but the second song, every time I turn the thing on, is... Yeah, you guessed it, "I Love it When You Call Me Names." Now, this is a song that you don't hear every day (well, unless you listen to my music player every day...)so you notice it when it comes on. Yeah. Second song every time. I don't know why, and it doesn't ALWAYS make me think Lou is hanging around, but this past weekend, it did. Yeah, definitely. I remembered Estrella, and belting it out, and knowing all the words, and what a moment it was.

In fact, pretty much every time I feel that Lou is hanging around, there is music involved. Indigo Girls while I was driving the moving truck down from Denver. I just knew she was keeping me company, bare feet on the dashboard, toe rings, nail polish and all.

It's pretty cool to have a friend who - even though they are no longer corporeal - can manage to lift your spirits.


Vic said...

For me. Its the crooked forks. She said no matter what her dad did, he always ended up with a bent fork. There he was always fixing them. And after he died everytime she got one she would say her dad was down for a visit. After she died, when I get a bent fork I smile and will even tell Shannon (who never met her)... look Lou says Hi.

Fran said...

Seems to me there was a fair amount of cream soda and rum involved in that Armatrading jaunt past the porta-potties (pottie-Henge!).

Her birthday's coming up so perhaps she's looking for a good musical tribute on the 5th. Hmmm. . .