My understanding of the Steve Windwood song by the above name, which was released in 1981, is that it had a remarkable lineup of musicians playing the instruments.
If you count Steve Windwood that is.
He played all of the instruments, recording them one by one until all was done. Very patient…very talented!
The end result is a pretty good song, with a pretty good message.
So, the other day I found myself in a situation where I saw a chance….and I took it.
I have had a motorcycle license for over 30 years, but sadly, my own motorcycle has become a permanent fixture of my garage since 2001.
As luck would have it, I tripped over a 2008 Suzuki GS500F at a used car dealer. It had been there quite awhile, and they were apparently very eager to get it off their showroom fllor. I offered them $900 less than they were asking for it and they accepted!
It had just over 1000 miles on it!!!!
If you want to see happiness, picture me on a motorcycle for the first time in well over a decade. That night, I went for a nice drive with the woman I LoVe holding on behind me.
So even though the calendar says Spring has sprung, the weather seems to want to dictate otherwise.
After a rather surreal 24 hours which included having everything she had of mine dumped on my front door step (and that ended up being the tame portion of the day!)…I woke up early on Saturday morning and went to get a haircut.
Then it was off to the big city to have lunch with an old friend. He lives almost 5 hours away from me, so we always meet in the middle.
We had a great lunch, and after many hours of pleasant conversation and catching up we parted ways. I went to use the mens room before beginning my long drive home.
Here’s the thing.
I’m a pack rat. I keep small things as souvenirs of events. Ticket stubs especially, or hotel room cards. That kind of thing.
A little over a year ago I was dating a nice woman who just happened to have a more screwed up life than mine. Her estranged husband had just been sentenced to jail for having sex with an under aged student. Her teenage son had just returned back home and was rebelling. But worse of all, he tween daughter was acting out by pathologically lying at school, making every ones life unbearable.
In to this mix enter I.
We went on a few dates, art gallery visits and the such. The last time we went out was to an independent film festival.
Things fizzled after that, and I moved on, as I always do.
But I kept the ticket stub from the Film Festival in my leather jacket.
I don’t know why. i felt bad every time I tripped over it.
Then, while I was using the facilities in the mens room….the ticket fell out of my pocket.