Blossom Ride

A friend had a last minute ticket to see Death Cab for Cutie at Astra in Friedrichshain tonight.  M kindly acceded to let me go, since there was only one ticket up for grabs.  He’s sweet that way.  I worked too late, as usual, and the train was going to be too slow so I rode my bike over.  F’hain seems like another world sometimes, but it was a 20 minute bike ride — about what it is from my house in Cherrywood to downtown Austin.  About half of the ride is through parks or along the canal.  Another part is on the tower bridge.  There were so many people on bikes that even on the busy roads there is a critical mass of cyclists.

We found some Indian food, talked about summer projects (writing!  music!  plant graffiti! getting organized!) and then went to the show.  The last time I saw Death Cab was on their Plans tour and honestly, the show was weak.  They were sloppy and Ben sang horribly.  M and I left agreeing that they may be a ‘studio band’.  Tonight was a whole other story.  It was a super tight, two hour set of old and new songs and the singing was just about perfect.  Their music is pastel and twee at times but I have no shame in admitting that sometimes the lyrics tear at my heart.  As they played the song that has one of the best lyrics of the last ten years, I had this blossom happen in my brain, or my heart, or my stomach, or all of the above.  The blossom said this:

This is why we go to rock concerts, because it is our church.

I am far away from Iowa, but it’s never far away.

How is it that someone can be so conventional that they become unconventional?

What we lose, by moving around, is community, but what we gain by staying: insanity and stagnation.

Why run?

Music cleans the soul.

It’s OK right here.

Afterwards I said goodbye to my friend and rode my bike home through the edge of Friedrichshain, over the river, down Skalitzer, through the sportpark, down the deep dark path by the canal, past lovers and a candle-lit picnic, over cobblestone streets, through the park, down the sidewalk and up into my hof.   I regularly have moments where I can’t believe I live here, and this bike ride was one of them.  But then I pull out my keys and they work in the door.

Must be home.