Music.
There is no better live concert than the one going on inside my head when I hear a song that takes me back to a time.. a time where the music provided a soundtrack. I think that's the thing... the music is not the main act. It is the string. My mind is what processes it and turns it into something so much bigger than it "really" is. Than what it is for someone else. Music is subjective. Right now I'm riding my little blue trek bike (how weird is it that I also rode that same bike yesterday) down an extremely wide residential road. One that had another residential road feed into it. I was approaching a dead end. One of those sudden dead ends that are created when an highway is paved through. It was a medium traffic highway, one that dumped off an interstate through Arlington Virginia. I was going to bounce up on it, briefly to try to get toward a cemetery in order to dive down toward the WOD trails. The road had some serious potholes and I had my headphones in - what was I listening to? Must have been my very first iPod. It was August. The road and air was dusty. The sun was at mid mast and... and I don't know... the song just changed on the radio so I'm on a different journey and back in San Francisco standing on Market Street during a Greyhound bus stop over from Vancouver to Los Angeles. I was considering how far I could wander from the bus station and not miss my transfer. This wasn't like Las Vegas. It was easy to get sucked up into the Tenderloin.