2002-09-20 - 6:49 p.m.
THE MESSAGE
Messages sometimes arrive in the oddest packaging. Today I walked into Borders to get a book on Microsoft Access. I needed the book because I am being forced to switch from my first love, Filemaker Pro, to Access as a database. I�d like to figure it out in time to save my data from getting lost in the changeover so I sought out the book. The reason I was there, however, has nothing really to do with the message or its delivery.
I walked in and headed to the back. Then I saw it. On display. Better yet, on sale. There was Kenny G. and I knew. It was there for me. It was meant to be.
Even before we moved here to Milwaukee from New York, Kenny G. was a part of our lives. I remember walking into a music store with only a vague idea what I wanted. I told the very nice, very young, very hip looking African-American man that I didn�t know what I should about music but I knew I wanted smooth jazz.
We wandered over to the jazz section and he pulled out a Grover Washington tape. He thought I would like it and I have. Then, as I was about to walk up to the counter, he asked me if I had a boyfriend. For a second I thought he was flirting. Then I realized that he was selling. �No,� I told him. �I have a husband.� He then handed me the Kenny G. tape and winked. �You probably want this one too,� he said�and I bought it.
Kenny G. has been an important part of my life since. Grover Washington is nice to listen to and I do. But Kenny G. is for special times. Kenny G. has done very well by me and mine. Until recently.
Not too very long ago, the tape player in our room did something very, very naughty. The tape player gobbled up Kenny G. and spit him out in long strips. The tape player removed his guts and spewed them all over the floor. The tape player killed Kenny G. Kenny G., our Kenny G., was no more----and Kenny G. has been missed.
So when I saw the Kenny G. on sale at Borders, I knew. My life needs more Kenny G. and God was looking out for me. So I bought Kenny G. Smooth jazz. Smooth Kenny G.
But this time I bought the CD. That tape player isn�t getting another chance to remove some joy from my life.
Sometimes I�m not sure whether love is the medium or the message. This time I know.
LAST YEAR: Daughter of the Rust Belt
LAST FIVE ENTRIES:
Life Among the Liliputians
Treasure
Dry Run
Girl Scout Fun
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Copyright 2006 by Ellen |
