This is a strange moment. All moments are strange moments, if I’m being honest. And I’m usually being honest in these blogs. Maybe too honest.
My 44 year-old body. My life in Iowa City. My children are almost adolescents. I’m balancing a career that can take as much as it gives if not more. And don’t get me started on living in America in the year 2024. Age of Anxiety indeed, Arcade Fire. I don’t know what to say about all of these things other than this, like every moment that came before, this one is strange. Being alive is a strange thing. Being aware even stranger.
I’ve been listening to music at night. The Iron and Wine radio station Spotify curates for me is calming. The other night, I was listening to that playlist when Walking with a Stranger by Chris Staples came on. I don’t know anything about Chris Staples. I do know that, much to my surprise, I found myself weeping as I listened to the song.
***
Walking with a Stranger is a short song. Two verses and a stanza that repeats once. I played it for my therapist because I’m seeing a therapist. I told you I’m too honest.
“This song made me cry, so you’re going to listen to it,” I told him.
“Okay,” he said. What else could he say? Actually, my therapist is an improviser. He tends to say okay to me. Yes, and.
Let’s take a quick look at the song, kind reader, to explore my strange moment. First verse:
Well, it sure took forever but the summer finally came
Felt like walking with a stranger, I didn’t even know her name
Pretty soon, I grow accustom to her warm and sunny way
Pretty soon, I would forget about those frigid winter days
It took a long time, but a warm and sunny moment replaced a cold, frigid one. I can’t help but think about all the things that have happened before this moment in Iowa City. It is warm and sunny now for me in ways that it hasn’t been in the past. So that verse resonated with me. Let’s keep going. Here’s the first stanza:
If you just stay true, some good things are coming back to you
If you just stay true, some good things are coming back to you
I don’t know about you, reader, but I’ve done my best to stay true. To be good in a world that often feels bad. To seek light despite darkness. And I have all sorts of hope that some good things are coming back to me, even if I don’t know what they are yet. Everything is the same, but exactly different, and I’m okay with that. Trying to be, anyway. A beautiful lyric. Here’s the final verse:
And death creeped in so quiet, it didn’t even make a sound
As far as I could see with dead leaves laying on the ground
Pretty soon, I grow a cold and hollow feeling in my heart
Pretty soon, me and my sunny day would have to part
Death creeps in so quiet no matter what we do. I know that 44 is young. But I also know that my perfectly healthy neighbor had a heart attack a few weeks ago, an acquaintance recently was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, and we couldn’t be more fragile. And I feel very aware of my fragility. Me and my sunny day will eventually have to part. You and yours too. What an unforgiving, sad, and honest second verse. And then we’re hit with the stanza one last time:
If you just stay true, some good things are coming back to you
If you just stay true, some good things are coming back to you
If you just stay true, some good things are coming back to you
Despite parting with our warm and sunny day, if we just stay true, some good things are coming back to us. I don’t know why, but those lyrics make me weep every time I hear them – especially when Chris Staples sings them. Even if death creeps in. Even if winter returns. Even if a cold and hollow feeling hangs heavy in our hearts. Some good things are coming back to us, but we need to stay true. I really believe that.
***
I don’t know what it is about that song that hit me so hard. Music is mysterious.
There’s a playlist of four songs on my Spotify right now. Walking with a Stranger is first. Stay Alive by Jose Gonzalez is next. Then Fake Palindromes by Andrew Bird followed by Eyes by Rogue Wave. Something about those four songs together seems to capture this strange moment.
Last week, I was walking down to campus with my strange playlist blaring in my not strange headphones. 44 year-old me in Iowa City. Father, husband, professor, walker, tiny human being in an enormous universe, etc. Much more than that, really. We’re all more than identifiers that describe us in any given moment. Those songs hit me hard as the summer sun baked my skin. A hot, summer day in July of 2024. I wept as I sang along, walking to campus. A bundle of energy and emotions. Feeling very much alive. What a beautiful mess I am.
I guess, at the very least, I just shared four cool songs with you. Well, five if you count the Arcade Fire song in the first paragraph. Moreover, I’ve done what I always do in these silly little blogs. Shared another strange moment with you. Thanks for sharing it with me. I’m laughing at myself because I feel like Mr. Rodgers after writing that sentence, but I do mean it.
Samuel Jaye Tanner 