Meandering Thoughts: Musical Moments

I've been thinking a lot about music lately. Over at Beerjanglin, I just wrote a piece that focuses on the combination of beer and music; meanwhile, my friend (and new blogger) Bobbo wrote a great piece that talked about a monumental concert event I attended last weekend at a farmstand outside Kingston, New York. (I'd talk more about the farmstand concert - which featured the legendary Levon Helm and was absolutely goosebump-inducing - but I instead invite you to read Bobbo's version of it instead - he did a great job of encapsulating a great musical moment).

Anyway, I wanted to talk about another musical moment that happened recently. Have you ever had a moment where you listened to a song and it absolutely captured the moment to the point where it felt like narration? I had one of those moments the other day.

I took myself a long weekend; I spent a whirlwind of a time in New York City, where I caught up with some old friends and had a lot of meetings that, without being too revealing, portend a great amount about my future (both immediate and distant). Anyway, at the end of this weekend, I ventured my sedan back towards Albany, and spent a couple of hours of my Tuesday evening on a dark, eerily quiet Taconic Parkway traveling north. I'd packed some CDs that I hadn't listened to in awhile for the trip; I decided to listen to Bruce Springsteen's "Tunnel Of Love" album for this leg of the journey.

As I neared the Austerlitz-Chatham exit (the final one on this stretch of road), the final track of this album came on - a haunting, melancholy ballad came on. Here, now, are some snippets of Springsteen's lyrics with explanation.

I'm driving a big lazy car rushin' up the highway in the dark
I got one hand steady on the wheel and one hand's tremblin' over my heart
It's pounding baby like it's gonna bust right on through
And it ain't gonna stop till I'm alone again with you

I, too, was driving a big lazy car and I was hurtling up a darkened highway. That alone made my eyes open wide. While I can't say that I was thinking about being alone with somebody per se, I was definitely thinking about a lot of things - my future, mostly... And yes, I drive with one hand steady on the wheel. I know we're not talking about mindblowing stuff here, but it certainly resonated.

Springsteen continued:

A friend of mine became a father last night
When we spoke in his voice I could hear the light
Of the skies and the rivers the timberwolf in the pines
And that great jukebox out on Route 39
They say he travels fastest who travels alone
But tonight I miss my girl mister tonight I miss my home

Here's where the connections got more personal. While a friend of mine didn't become a father last night, one of my closest friends in the world is on "any day now" status for fatherhood. Which is weird and different. I find myself wondering not whether fatherhood will change him, but rather, how much it will. It's weird and different and not really something I've taken the time to attend to in a friendship. And that part about missing my girl and missing my home - well, that part'll get me for awhile. I'm not in a relationship right now, and I don't miss my ex-girlfriend, but there's something about being in a relationship that I miss dreadfully, that made me feel somewhat closer to complete. I miss that all the time. And part and parcel with the weekend was that sense of home - so much doubt and change.

I could go on, but to be honest, my story would diverge even further from Springsteen's in the song. That being said - I love it when I can make a connection with a song, even if it's a painful, philosophical one.

Anyone had anything similar ever happen?