Last year was a hard year for us. Why and how is a private matter; we rose to the challenges we faced, but it was fairly rough going there for a minute or two. In the eye of the storm that threatened us, though, we stared down some hard truths about how fragile human relations are. Give glory to God in the highest, and peace to His people on earth! Every so often, we get a glimpse of our ugliest and, in at least one sense, our truest selves. So when Bill Callahan sets the stage with
It's our anniversary
I leave it ajar
And go outside
To look at the driveway
stars
The crickets
are chirping
They stop at
my step
I
stop my step
And they start up again,
it shakes me: I recognize that narrator. Nothing much is going on, but there's a familiar feeling in the details. I know that guy.
I don't, of course; it's just a song. But it continues, sketching a mundane little scene over a very unaffected melody and the wispiest spiderweb of a guitar line, and then we get this:
It's our
anniversary and you've hidden my keys
This is one anniversary
you're spending with me
I slide in the
front seat
The drivers side
To hotwire and hightail
crosses my mind