I write this from the back seat of a car. My phone is wedged between the bottom of the headrest in front of me, and the top of the front seat; that is my computer screen. I have my Bluetooth keyboard between my legs.
I am on my way to the friend of a friend’s. I had my choice of riding in two cars. The folks in this car wanted me to come along with them so that I could listen to Amanda Palmer’s “Piano is Evil.” I am doing that now, and enjoying it.
The person next to me is telling me that “Piano is Evil” is Palmer’s piano-only version of her album “Theater is Evil.” My knowledge of Amanda Palmer is relatively thin; I know some Dresden Dolls, I know a few of Palmer’s own songs, and I’ve seen her TED Talk on "The Art of Asking."
The person driving the car has said that were she to meet Amanda Palmer, she doesn’t know whether she would say “I love your music,” or "please don’t kill me."
The weather is nice outside, which makes me hope that it’s actually spring already. A Facebook friend said that winter sort of feels like a band that goes on for way too long and then, when they finish and you grab your coat to leave, starts to play an encore that you don’t want to hear. That’s about right.
I can’t say that this is one of those brilliant moments like the one in “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” where the kid talks about being infinite and everything, but it is an awfully nice moment.
The folks in the front seat are a couple. The driver has reached her hand over, and the passenger now holding the driver’s hand as if the driver’a hand is a kitten. There was this really sweet moment where they sort of leaned into each other, and the passenger kissed the driver’s hand.
I guess I’m leaving names out of this because it’s this really nice moment between these two people, and I don’t want to embarrass them by saying their names. Besides, I’d kind of feel like I was messing up this really nice moment they just had. As it is, I’m writing about it, which makes me feel as if I’m taking a candid photograph and posting it up here for all to see.
But if I at least keep it to “The Driver” and “The Passenger,” they could be anybody. If I write it this way, this could be a car anyplace, where right at this moment, Amanda Palmer is playing on the radio, the two people in the front seat are holding hands, the person next to the person who’s writing is softly singing along to Amanda Palmer, and someone’s just writing all this down, writing about how this is one of those moments you can file away and remember every so often.
Then I can read this, and that person who was typing away in the back seat of the car can say “Remember when you were listening to Amanda Palmer in the back seat of a car, and the two folks in the front were holding hands, and the person next to you was singing along, and it was all very sweet and life affirming, in a low-key and subtle way?”
“Yes,” I can then say back, smiling, “I remember that.”