Who was it that said music has more power than any other form of creative expression to transport us to a moment or place in time?
Van the Man takes me back to the carefree, exhilarating days of utter freedom known as youth, to the days of cheddar cheese omelets, biscuits and fried potatoes at Ann Sather Restaurant on Sundays, to concerts at the Metro, disco nights at Berlin, bike rides along Lake Michigan, road trips and moondances, big houses filled with roommates, bodies dancing to Talking Heads and loud voices rising together to sing the Mystic, filled with the yearning for adventure and discovery.
Sinead takes me back to similar days, days in a different place, a place where I landed by the grace of the gypsy muse, and where the powerful purity of O’Connor’s Irish voice rang out from taverns all across town, a voice that we carried in our hearts as the sun rose over the sleepy city and we went in search of a cafe con leche and a warm tortilla sandwich to eat on the boardwalk as we gazed out at the Mediterranean Sea shimmering in the first light of dawn, before we headed home to sleep the restful sleep of those unfettered by responsibility, as the future stretched out before us, radiant and full of promise. I am forever grateful that there were days like that..
- Montana Kane is a former Chicago resident and author of the stupendous Brandy Martini crime novels
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