This is another blog post written before the inaugural “It turned out perfectly.” This was written on March 10, 2017.
When I was a child, my dad owned this red and silver Chevrolet Suburban. Haley and I loved it. As kids, we were excited to ride along on the bench seat because it was so different than other cars. We were equal with the driver, seeing what he saw out that front windshield. Perhaps too, it was that the bench seat lent a sense of togetherness.
Flashing back, thinking about that suburban reminds me of diet coke and cassettes. I loved the car’s cassette player. My dad had this one Cajun tape (that he’d made) and I adored the song “See You Later Alligator.” That cassette was played and rewound so often that if I had the tape today, I’d be astonished if it could still play.
Surprisingly, that wasn’t the only song I listened to. Often, songs I’d never heard before would come on the radio, and my dad would play a game with me. He’d turn down the radio for an imperceptible second and ask me, “What do you hear?” or “Listen, did you catch the violin?”. He encouraged me to truly listen to the music, to appreciate the parts that make up the whole.
Driving home from class, I heard this song and immediately picked up on the banjo. It reminded me of how I was taught to listen closer and listen harder.