Back when I was a young buck without a pickup truck -- that would be around 1971 -- my favorite song was "American Pie" by Don McLean, which was his ode to Buddy Holly. I was 17 then.
Fast forward to, I'd guess, 1998. Along with my regular day job, I'd get up each morning around 3 a.m. to deliver papers, to raise money to buy the first components of this airplane I ended up building. Occasionally, one of the kids wanted to go with me, and I'd usually give them the day's cash because it was fun to have them with me.
I remember the feeling one day when I'd parked the car and was walking from house to house on one side of the street and Patrick -- or maybe Sean, but I think it was Patrick -- was doing the other side of the street. It was early, people were asleep, it was dark and from down the street I could hear a kid singing...
Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levy but the levy was dry.
I remember thinking, "wow, that's really weird.
I had the same feeling today visiting the Rock n'Roll Hall of Fame because there were quite a few -- let's call them -- "older" people and their grown children. For them, music serves the same purpose baseball always has for me.
We sat in a theater watching George Harrison's Concert for Bangladesh. Patrick knew the songs, but not necessarily the artists. Close enough. Unfortunately, you can't take pictures inside, so I have none to show you.
Around downtown, there are ceramic "guitars" everywhere, similar to the "Peanuts" statues that have dotted St. Paul in recent years, and cows in Chicago.
This is an 'alligator' guitar outside the Hall of Fame.
Here's one Patrick liked dedicated to the computer.
And I like this one so much -- kind of a BMX/skateboard theme -- that I decided to try to "play" it (you'll have to click for the larger image)
Cleveland's waterfront is looking pretty fine these days.
There was a very enlightening comment at the museum I heard in one of the presentations. Rock n' roll reminds you that life is fun. So many people are caught up worrying about how to pay the rent or putting up with a crummy job, and then some kid comes by listening to some music, sloshing through puddles and you remember that life is fun.
I'll have to try to remember that thought when the punk with the big bass in the car drives by at midnight.