Aug 21 AOTD: Simon and Garfunkel - Bridge Over Troubled Water

Aug 21 AOTD: Simon and Garfunkel - Bridge Over Troubled Water

Link to the album: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4G-YQA_bsOU&list=PLIFqMjxyKaIYPn-m4GeKhsS03cSEOEYNN

For today’s AOTD, I decided to do something different.  I have been on the road,

traveling to Colorado, via car to Minneapolis, where I visited with my friend of 30 years, Eric.  

Later he, my friend Evan (who is making the entire journey with me),

and I all attended a concert of Dr. Mombo’s Combo in the city at Bunkers -

these are band mates of Prince, who have returned to the band they had before he recruited them.

It was a massive jam. We were out late, dancing, enthralled with the scene.

We were up early this morning, anyway, out to the airport.

And now I sit here on the plane, writing a prose stream of consciousness piece that transforms

into a poem, the text intertwining my thoughts of the album, certain lyrics, and the experience of my

 last 14 hours on this journey.  But I realize the journey started many years ago when music became

 by escape from some crazy times.  Simon and Garfunkel’s “Greates Hits” was the first CD I ever

owned. “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” was the last album (of five) that they made in the studio as a

duo. Here were my thoughts ...

“Flying high over troubled times, pursuing pasts and fruitful futures - I am a bridge - between the

slap of a mother and the hug of a boy.

A span of 40 years between.   

My friend’s son explodes out a door to hug me - he’s only met me once before - and that trust -

that beauty of kind human contact - surges in me like Art Garfunkel saying “ like a bridge over

troubled water, I will ease your mind.” Though he’s a towering 7 ft man, Eric is a new-age father

who understands what it’s like to be small. He has “laid it down” for his family.  I hope I can live up to

THIS human bridge, where still waters run deep and bubble to surface - in solid rock

and playful laughs.

I have my companions

On rivers running mad

On streets paved dark

And in skies suspended cold

But I’m inside the womb of this plane

I’m inside the warmth of the present

And I’m moved by drums, strings, Brooklyn voices - and memories of Minneapolis guitars,

adept axemen, popping bass fingers,

Black women in heels

White men in t-shirts

Shuffling feet

Swiveling hips

Eyes turned up to stage

Lured by these

Soul musicians.

WHAP!

A hand-clap beat

baits my arms up,

Hooks me in,

And I’m on the floor

We’re a school of dancers

Swimming upon beer-soaked wood

I have my memories

Here beside me like so many violins

Reaching, running

In slow motion gallup

Before the drums crashing like waves.

Pause with me here like a sparrow in the haze

It’s the beginning of the end,

And even Paul’s voice sweetens - like Art’s  - to run like mallards

Flying parallel - skimming, dipping over mellow ripples

with blue sky above

If only life could hang like

this airplane

in the sky,

Precarious, streamlined and destined

My safety momentarily in the hands of another

My thoughts momentarily in the confines of my mind

My words momentarily in the screen between my hands

Behind me, family waiting on return

Before me, music and mountains

Beside me, a friend and brother,

My fellow boxer laying it all down -

Seeking “health, wealth, love and happiness.”

For a moment

We ride on this bridge

In harmony.”