Whenever any soul music came on the radio, she’d get quiet. This was not a normal thing for her. And after she was quiet she’d start a sentence with “you know the thing about.” The comments would always be insightful, but sad, reflections on the mixed-ness of blessings.
When the song “Cat’s Cradle” came on the radio, he got quiet. From the drivers seat I looked over and saw his lip start to shake. And the conversation turned sharply. To nostalgia and fatherhood. I hate that damn song and change stations whenever I hear it.
When we were in college, we’d take drives and listen to new albums to stave off boredom. And it worked for the most part. Following back roads through flat valleys we’d stare out at silhouettes of mountains and talk about girls. The lulls in conversation weren’t so bad, but that’s probably because we liked the same music.