Worth a Second Look

I wrote what follows a decade ago (I know, 'you've been throwing letters out into the ether for a decade?' Actually for LONGER than that.) and it seems life is more cyclic than I first thought, even the second time. Back in the day, I called it:

Whistles the Wind

I only have one of their albums, and technically (of course) it's not an album, it's a CD but I'm such a fossil I still package music in obsolete units of measure because it's inconceivable to me that you might ever consider buying it like hamburger, but, rather than by the pound, by the download. 

I came from an era where people my age showed their devotion to music and musicians by naming their children, 'Dylan' and such. And the generation that followed us name theirs for fruits and vegetables (shoe's a little tight, Gwyneth?)

The band is Flogging Molly and aside from the same biology that places us in the same genus and species, I have little in common with anyone within the band. They are considered an Irish and/or Celtic Band which helps build the box we can put the label on, to help us not think about what an artist is or what they do-instead we can say 'do you like So-and-So?' 

And depending on the answer, we can then say, 'you really should try this guy/these people/that ringtone; it'll remind you so much of So-and-So.' One of those all 'ducks are birds but not all birds are ducks' if we can't be profound, let's be profane moments we cherish so much.

"Well, it breaks my heart to see you this way.
The beauty in life, where's it gone?
And somebody told me, you were doing okay.
Somehow, I guess they were wrong."

Perhaps they're singing about a past lover, and I've listened to this song maybe three hundred (or is it three hundred thousand?) times in five years but never really heard it until late yesterday driving on Water Street through what was downtown Norwich, but I think that they're singing about where I live.

-bill kenny