There is something about a song.

Pick one.

Maybe it’s a song that makes you cry. Or a song that fills you with jubiliation.

A song you go to when you’re drunk. Or when you want to dance…

Or, when you’re wanting to tap into your cerebral side.

Whatever the nature of your attraction, that song is yours and yours alone.

Others might share an appreciation of it, but in that moment… in that space… that song is yours… it was written for you.

—

A good bottle of whiskey is Journey.
A beer, Springsteen.
A happy day alone with too much coffee, The Clash.

When I want to cry… to feel, to reminisce, Journey in on the dial. When I want to think, Springsteen occupies. When I want to dance and feel as though I own the world, The Clash reigns supreme.

Tonight, Teacher’s Select is supplementing my research and writing as my lovely Rei sleeps… her own mixology contributing to an early slumber… and tonight, Journey is indeed on the dial.

It’s a familar course.
As it should be.

It’s 1981, and Steve Perry is belting it out in his leopard-patterned sleeveless shirt. Jonathan Cain (nice name!)  is rockin’ a similar outfit behind the keys. Neil Schon is the master of the 1980’s fro, rocking the F out of rock’n’roll…  clearly risking all a jazzman has to risk.

Bass-man, Mr. Valory is providing supportive coverage as every drummer knows is essential, and… speaking of which, Steve Smith is traditional-gripping the beejeeus of it all in all its magnificince…

…and thus, it is…

The Song.

Which is it?

There are many to choose from when it comes to Journey…

Alas, tonight I will call it as..

… wait for it.

Open Arms.

I dare you not to feel as you do….

It’s the 80’s.

And you are there.

Peace.
D