These are apparently the days of miracle and wonder.

Though maybe only from a certain point of view.

There are few things I would like to have re-engineered in my life.

Here are some of them:

I would like to erase all memories of the surprising parts about the Star Wars movies from the seventies/eighties era.

I would like to have been there watching The Wizard of Oz when it went Technicolor for the first time with no previous assumption that color in movies was even possible.

I would have liked to have been a person sitting in on the unveiled recording of Rolling in the Deep.

I would have liked to have been present at Beethoven's fifth symphony.. and others.

I would have like to have seen Santana's Soul Sacrifice live at Woodstock.

..or been present for certain parts of Stop Making Sense.. or any number of live encounters of certain songs.. the first performance of Twist and Shout for example..

The important part would be not having the socio/psychological baggage which tells me that these things are good. I would want to be surprised. I would want to be told by some deep well of intuition that these noises are truly able to wind their fingers around my heart and squeeze gently.

I guess there are only a few places in a lifetime that create enough openness and respect for complete awe.

I've been in the presence of greatness. I've shaken hands with it, told jokes to it, grown up with some of it, may never meet other parts of it. So many things are great. So many people.

I've wept in the presence of greatness. I'm not going to tell you what it was. You will poke fun at me when next we meet. It was nothing so noble as falling to my knees in tears at the feet of the David, no, no.

I thought the thing was great at the time. I do not think the thing is great anymore. See how cool I am now?

I had a milder experience at A Silver Mt. Zion show. I'll never forget it. (See??)

I have a friend (I probably have a few with this quality, but I am thinking of one in particular now) who sees these wonderful things maybe more frequently than others.

There is a scene in Wall-E involving a fire extinguisher which is particularly beautiful. I saw the movie in the theater with him and I recall seeing him wipe tears from his eyes during this event. I think of him whenever I watch that clip, and sometimes I feel like I see what he saw. I live this idea through him though, it isn't mine.

Similarly, these ideas that are mine aren't yours.

Duh.

You may not actually catch your breath during some piece of music, or find it necessary to breath very slowly, deeply and carefully at "the scars of your love, they leave me breathless."

But you could, and that's the important part.

The warm surprise of wonder comes to everyone at some point. I refuse to believe there are people who don't experience this sort of thing. This mainly because I think the reason these things happen is because everyone experiences them. Does that make sense?

Fine.

A friend asked me if I'd found myself to be more sensitive lately, in regards to things you feel rather than see or hear. I told her I probably haven't been paying attention. I also havn't been listening to much good music lately on the level I would like.

This whole line of thinking is all probably coming from the fact that I just got a pair of good headphones and a (free!!) mp3 player to replace KaZaK. When I first plugged the puppy in, did I listen to the 5th? The 7th? Other "great" things? Bolero?

Nope. No cigar.

The first song I played?

Rhythm Nation.

Yup.