Every song carries a memory. This one reminds me of my mom—making cabbage salad with carrots, sweet and low and pitchers of lemonade, the mix cd’s she’d make just because she loved this song and wanted me to love it too, of cruising in the summer, the humidity of New Jersey swallowing everything and wasting evenings away in my backyard with friends, trying to think of anything to do that would offer comfort from the heat.

This song has roots, baby. And an awesome saxaphone solo three minutes in. And, now that I am listening to it away from Mom and cabbage salad and New Jersey humidity, I see it is creating roots someplace else. Digs on it.

I hold onto to you. You bring me hope. I’ll see you soon.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s