Tonight I've been listening to it by dragging a lump of rock through a groove cut in a piece of plastic over 45 years ago. Magnificent doesn't do it justice it really is something special and I apologise to the neighbours. Streamed or CD is so impersonal as to be throwaway but vinyl? The instant Mick began the sleeve in my hand took me back 45 years and to a couple of cards sent a few months ago and totally unexpected.
Both from friends with whom an often damp halls of residence was shared. I'm not sure that my frequent sharing of the Stones had any influence on one but I think it did on the other. Two cards, one just said "Hugs" and expressed the thought that but for geography dropping in would be a good idea. The other was a rather classy and stylish drawing of a place of some significance with words of pertinence. For both my gratitude oozes like water through a landing into the lampshade bowl below.
Not much to write about, then? Well, the Hugs card came from one who has an easy smile, charm, I'm told and most definitely far more a people person than I, although that's not saying much at all. But huggy, touchy feely? The other from one with whom stylish and classy would not be words that immediately sprang to mind. I conclude that another thing we share is that we married well, so well, in fact that our wives have had a profound influence for the immeasurably better.
Sat here, knowing that once the next few minutes have passed Sticky Fingers will be next and then Let it Bleed for no other reason than they always are. If there's any wakefulness left the Hyde Park concert will end the evening but that's a CD. In the meantime I reflect and conclude that the most important aspect of a life are the relationships we develop and cherish.
The ability of artefacts to render polish to relationships is what makes the clutter we collect over a lifetime more than just stuff. I hope my records don't end up in a charity shop too soon but really they are only precious to me. I know which ones have concert tickets in the sleeve, who I went with, why this album is special and so it goes on.
On my bedside cabinet under a book lie a number of letters, two written in an instantly familiar flowing script as only a fountain pen can manage and one from a lady on the south coast written just after she'd lost her mum but all came at just the right time with just the right words of encouragement and inspiration. To be known well enough for friends to meet such needs is the outworking of a relationship which has no price. It is also very humbling.
Writing cards or letters, phoning, txting or whatever is such a wonderful thing to do that I'm conscious that I ought to do it much more, especially as I realise far too often that it's the fact of the communication more than the content but that's the inevitable result of dilapidation. I'm feeling guilty now and rightly so.
The fact that so many of our relationships straddle so many years, so many miles and so few meetings is a testimony to their depth and value. There are no words to describe them which is just as well because no words are required. If we met tomorrow, some not met for decades we'd just pick up where we last left off.
Sorry, Sticky Fingers next, it's Let it Bleed now because I feel the need to hear Country Honk although there's not a poor track on either of those studio albums.
The last night of 2019 leads one to recall, reminisce and revel in the memories of those we've had the privilege of having spent time with over a lifetime. There are no adequate words although I confess that the evening would be enhanced with a Guinness or two, alas although my liver is good my stomach can't cope with any quantity of merit but I may just open one and sip it slowly . . . .
How glorious are the relationships we enjoy? Far more than mere words can express. That's what music is for.
Cheers.
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