The Songs We Sing

Got the Boss playing a three song concert inside my head and a million different thoughts I might share with you if you caught me at the right moment.

Three different songs and one central idea that could be explored if opportunity presented itself knowing possibility seems to exist in two different worlds.

One in which the walls and hurdles are so big they might as well be Mt. Everest sized and another in which the snow covered paths are devoid of ice because spring has come and the caretakers have made access easy.

Sitting on the lat pull machine I go for the close grip and then adjust the weights for a progression from 120 to 160 pounds. The first two sets are relatively easy and the third one isn’t as hard as I anticipate.

For a moment I wonder if I can stack it. For a moment I feel the years melt away and I think, “yeah, I can still pull it without too much effort.”

Too much” being the euphemism I use for being able to do so without getting hurt, something I never considered before. Because in those days I always knew this body might not move with grace but brute strength was the gift that always gave.

Today I don’t throw caution to the wind with the same reckless abandon as I once did, but I haven’t let go of it entirely either.

What Song Does Your Heart Sing?

A woman asks if I am a believer or an atheist and I say agnostic. There was a time when I couldn’t and wouldn’t use something that sounded like straddling the fence but I no longer see it in such terms.

There is a place between science and myth that I can’t quite put my finger on but I know I have felt its touch upon me as recent as this morning.

I have referred to it more than once as hearing bells ring inside my head and if I thought about it I would probably say the phenomena started somewhere around 2003 or so.

Used to be that I fought the belief and refused to give it credence. Was easier to provide a dozen different rational thoughts as reasons for why and then it wasn’t.

Doesn’t matter whether people agree or disagree, I don’t need that sort of validation.

I just know what I know and if it means I am crazy, well I am ok with being crazy.

The thing is it is much easier to just let the crazy in than to fight and make excuses for it.

Still there are times I actively tamp down the flames because if I let the engineer have his way he’d send the train hurtling down the tracks at breakneck speed and dare the world to derail him.

That would be the act of the true believer whereas the atheist wouldn’t board the train for they would see it as a trip going nowhere.

Good thing I currently occupy the role of the agnostic. I am happy to send the train down the tracks and take a leisurely trip wherever this train may go.

Not so sure about the service and the food car, but I am told the beds have enough room for two, provided you are the romantic type who know how to spoon.

Do Boys Need Girls?

A woman who shall remain nameless told me long ago that boys need girls. She laid out a list of reasons and talked about how women ruled the roost.

We debated it for a bit and she told me I was ridiculous and silly for disagreeing. Told me I was crazy for a variety of other reasons and I said “so what. You still like telling me your stories and asking my opinion on things. We still like spending time together and talking. That is what is important.”

I thought about it the other day when I was at an event with a bunch of married couples and an assortment of married people who were there solo.

It is not for me to judge other relationships but I do wonder about those people who never seem to spend time together. Do they have interests in common or have they grown so far apart they live in the same house but live separate lives.

They might say that boys don’t need girls and girls don’t need boys. Or maybe they’d say they need the right ones.

Whatever the hell that means anyway, the rights ones.

Movies and television give us funny expectations or so the common refrain goes.

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