Feels so good

No real blog today, save for this one core memory.

I'm two years old in footed pajamas.

My dad is on the floor with me, helping me build a house out of blocks.

There's a console stereo with a turntable, cassette player and radio in the room, and it's about the size of a small car.

I don't remember if it was the radio or the turntable playing, but whatever it was carried the buttery tones of a flugelhorn playing a wistful melody that was somehow both happy and sad.

Maybe I knew I'd remember this decades later. Maybe I sensed the passing of time and the inevitability of death and things forgotten. Maybe I knew one day we'd say goodbye to that console stereo to make way for a brand new CD player with a carousel.

Maybe I filled my diaper on the chorus.

But one thing I, as an adult, now know.

And that's Chuck Mangione is forever.