You never know when something is going to move you. You go about your day, doing your things, seeing other people’s things, the beauty, the joy, the sadness, the survival.
I went to the same record store I had patronized for a couple of years. The guy who ran it had at some point figured out that I enjoyed discovering new things musically, unafraid of tangents or genres. if it was good, it was good. And since he had never steered me wrong, there were times when I would walk into the store and ask him what I was buying that day. He had turned me on to everything from T. Rex to Merle Haggard. I still have a large Fleetwood Mac poster that he gave me in the early ’80s framed on my wall.
On this particular day in 1975 I knew what I was buying when I walked in, but he practically ran to the front of the store with it for me anyway.
And “Wish You Were Here” became the longest and greatest musical trip my mind has ever taken.
I’m still on it. Thank you.
