Traveling back from Santa Fe, New Mexico today to Amarillo, Texas, was a bittersweet moment. Or, perhaps the ambiguous nature of the two ways one could translate Nostalgia...As a linguist, it is not a given to me that it means a "longing/pain for a homecoming". Because of the way that words in such languages as Greek and Sanskrit (both two of my favorite languages ever), one could conceivably read it as: the pain of homecoming. Odysseus struggled with his Nostos, often filled with Algia, and it is never quite clear which is the stronger of the two.
Driving across Eastern New Mexico, I was reminded of a line from Son Volt's LP "Trace". (BTW if you ever want to be my BFF and ever, find me a vintage copy of this and have it find its way to Antwerp...), which says:
Switching it over to A.M.
Searching for a truer sound
Can't recall the call letters
Steel guitar and settle down
Can't recall the call letters
Steel guitar and settle down
Catching an all night station
Somewhere in Louisiana
It sounds like 1963
But for now it sounds like heaven
Somewhere in Louisiana
It sounds like 1963
But for now it sounds like heaven
So, I switched it over to AM...and found a truer sound. Listening to Buddy Holly's "Well...All Right" on cracklin' AM was perfect, it sounded like Heaven.
But, it made me nostalgic for a Time I never even lived in, and perhaps one that was not always that good. But, I heard it about the time I passed this now derelict Stuckey's, something which was truly iconic for my childhood road trips across I-40/Route 66 (and when I use "iconic" I mean it, not some flippant flash-in-the-pan BS).
I have a lot to say on this, and will do so at some level, whether in a post or in a book, we shall see. For now, enjoy Mr. Holly, and deck the halls with him...
Merry Christmas from Texas...
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