Blues From The Blue Men
Last week, half of my CD tower collapsed. It covers an entire wall and holds hundreds of my lovingly collected CDs. The CDs crashed to the floor. Some are cracked, some are scratched. To say that I'm sad about it is an understatement. I haven't been able to deal with it at all. I just look at the piles of music and turn away because I can't bear to go through them and see what I've lost. Today I realized that it was the left side of the case that collapsed. This means that all of my American music genres--blues, jazz, rock, soul and hip hop are in piles on the floor. My global music--Latin, reggae, soca, calypso, African, Celtic and everything in between, rests safely on shelves in the other half of the tower. I haven't figured out what this means but for now it means that I only have access to my global music. The feeling of loss and regret that hovers over me has created a hankering for the blues. I can't reach for B.B. or Buddy or John Lee but I can listen to...