An ephemeral thought before I forget. As I currently savor Mike Doughty’s memoir (way too shamefully late in my life), he shares an anecdote of an encounter with a cute girl he met before a show he played way back when. In short, it goes something like this: Mike Doughty likes Girl. Mike Doughty thinks Girl likes Mike Doughty. Girl pays no attention to Mike Doughty because Girl actually thinks she likes Jeff Buckley because she thinks he speaks French. Girl meets Jeff Buckley after show. Mike Doughty’s feelings crushed by Girl. Girl meets Jeff Buckley after the show. Jeff Buckley later complains to Mike Doughty about Girl being annoying and crazy and couldn’t believe she thought he spoke French.
Love seems to have a funny way of stringing everyone together into this giant connected circle of fifths but no one is playing in the right key. People need to just tune their hearts up or down a half-step and maybe they will see how close they were to playing in harmony with another person.