Adagio for Strings

Warning: This post contains adult situations and descriptions...viewer discretion is advised.

This morning, as I was walking Leo, listening to my iPod, I had a very...hmm....how to describe it.....captivating experience.

One of the podcasts I was listening to was describing the importance of Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings. (If, for some reason, you are unfamiliar with it, please...do yourself a favor, and go listen to it....you shant be dissappointed.) Anway, at one point the commentators stopped discussing the piece in order to let the true musical meaning come out. At just that point, I came upon an elderly couple out in front of a fraternity house. What struck me was the vividness of their blue hats. These shockingly bright blue hats perched upon knotted, dirty grey hair. Their wrinkled faces deeply involved in their tasks. The dirty sweatshirts they wore under their blackened coats were tattered and stained. They wore matching black rubber orthopedic shoes and there was a gap of exposed skin between their too-small sweatpants and the tops of their shoes. They barely looked up at me as I walked by them, they were too intent as they looked through the dumpster, digging with bare hands through empty bottles, used condoms and last weeks discarded pizza boxes.

What struck me though, was the smile on the woman's face as I said hello. She looked at me, and her lips parted showing her toothless gums and her face lit up. The man, white facial hair patchy at best simply nodded....a minimum of a grin all that he allowed. As I passed they both went back to the task at hand.

All of this took no more than 45 seconds, and all the while Barber's Adagio lingered in my ears. I'm going to close this post with a line from a Johnny Cash song...it seems sadly appropriate now:

"And there's nothin' short of dyin'
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleepin' city sidewalk
And Sunday mornin' comin' down"

Carry on my brother.
Carry on.

Tommy