Saturday, April 6, 2013

The Jukebox

Walking the boys this morning in the eye of the storm.  It's been one squall after another for at least three days--and no, that is not a complaint!  Not only is this part of my world badly in need of rain, but it also means I can't be outside dealing with the yard work until the weather clears.

So, I'm walking along, blue skies in a small circular space overhead, black vortex of clouds swirling and menacing in the rest of the sky.  The trees are blooming, a few birds twittering, the VA complex quiet and peaceful.

And totally out of the blue, Eleanor Rigby comes into my head.  Seriously.  The song just starts right up like I've turned on the radio.  I start singing, softly, under my breath as the boys and I meander along, but when I get to this part...

Eleanor Rigby died in the church
and was buried along with her name
Nobody came
 Father McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands
as he walks from the grave
No one was saved
...I stop singing and just stand there as the lyrics echo in my mind.  I think for the first time ever I actually hear the words.  
Now, obviously I know the song is about lonely people--the chorus leaves no doubt on that--but suddenly I have this picture in my head of these two lost souls who have never found each other, who finally meet when it's far, far too late.
The boys and I carry on walking as my thoughts tumble.  What does it mean?  Why this song out of the thousands in my memory banks?  I'm a creature of intuition and mindfulness, omens and insight, but I don't get the message here, unless it's the obvious one: that I might be turning into Eleanor Rigby.  It is a bit lonely up here on the mountain after all...
But then again, sometimes I overthink things.  Sometimes there's just no rhyme or reason.  So, maybe it's nothing.  Just snapping neurons in my cluttered brain that turned on the jukebox and randomly picked a song, though I can't help but wish a less poignant song had been chosen.  Really, I've got a playlist in my head that rocks---
That wretched evil twin.  Where did she get the quarters to play the juke? 


  1. In the book I wrote, one of the character's name was Elanor Rigby, and she had a priest uncle named McKenzie. This irony was not lost on my main character, who was known to taunt her for it.

    Ah, my for my roaring twenties...

    Being the believer in chaos that I am, I tend to go with supposition that it was just a random firing of memory. Nothing more. Over analyzing it will drive you to chew upon the inside of your skull and that way leads to madness.

  2. Strange though how our minds work, and what gets dredged up from the bottomless pit of memory. And I'm still blaming the evil twin.. ;D