Charlie Two here…
In my life I have noticed everyone. I am an observer. I am perfectly content to be an observer. I come from a bloodline of observers.
This is the story of one of my muses.
He would always be seen as the quiet one. Maybe focused, possibly driven. I however believe he was inspired. Not necessarily a funny man although you could catch him with a smirk on his face from time to time. What drove him? Where did the smirk come from and how long would it stay?
Some say that beauty in life is in the eye of the beholder, yet he couldn’t see all that well during my years of knowing him. Was it the smell of good food in the air that would catch him from time to time? Was it the weather outside?
Like many Canadians and Americans these days, we are the sons and daughters of recent immigrants. Were they just happy to be here? Were they happy to be alive and be free? Certainly their definition of freedom greatly differs from mine. It could be freedom… but whose freedom did he rejoice in?
As I grew older and older I came to understand what was so amusing to this man. It was sound.
It wasn’t the sound of rock and roll music or the great composers. It wasn’t the sound of technology or televisions. It wasn’t movies or microwaves. It was the children.
Although never discussed, it needed no explanation. Long after the questions were aloft in my mind I no longer had any chance of reconciling these questions. It is just something you come to know. He was smiling about us. He was hearing the future and he knew it was good. It was full of hope and happiness and he knew any price paid resulted in a job done well.
He was tired. He was quiet. He was perfectly and irrevocably content.
Here’s a music joke to lighten it all up:)
How do you know there is a drummer at the door?
He doesn’t know when to come in!
Silly Self Help 