: (v) to miss
I have had the great fortune these past week of having incredible friends that let me stay with them, successfully evading "Match Girl" status on all accounts. Sometimes, the warm hospitality of others is so moving it crashes right over to homesickness. A strange paradox, but one that I find is true again and again. On Monday, I went to the Arcade Fire concert (sidenote: mindblowing!) with Katrin and her father. He's a very cool dad I must say, and in the car we were talking about music ... or rather I was spewing stings of random words at him in German and he was kindly interpreting and responding in excellent English. It was snowing quite hard on the Autobahn, so we drove slowly and gently along. I brought up Paul Simon, which I sort of regretted because it made my heart hurt a little thinking of all the days at home on familiar roads, singing. Katrin's father I sang did a funny little rendition of this one while waiting at a traffic light. He was pitch perfect:
Last night, I cooked Mexican for Katrin & Marcus as a thank you for their generosity, and while doing the dishes, I was listening to KEXP. This is undoubtedly one of my favorite radio stations at home, and the one I know Andy listens to every day at work, so I like to listen sometimes and think of Brooklyn. I found an acoustic set by Colin Meloy of The Decemberists, and it included a heart-wrenching version of this one. I never paid much attention to the lyrics, but with the winter upon us, snow falling and all my stuff shoved into one bag, it hit home. I am off into the streets today with a charged camera battery, and a fresh blanket of white to document, so new pictures are soon on the way...
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