Of rain and imperfect acoustics

There’s this thing about rains and Dave Matthews Band.

Not that they have written tomes on rains. Or may be when Julia Roberts walks out of the washer as everyone’s dream girl in one of those teen videos, you sure want to follow the water drop down her spine.

Yea, DMB and rains lie in the complementary strands of my DNA may be. So when I was watching DM playing “Stone”, a song that with my limited guitar skills always wanted to play but never get closer to the level of perfection displayed by DM, I was as always swayed.

Getting back to the rains, and the nostalgia associated with it, rains in this part of the world are as rare as bringing Warren Buffet & Che Guevara on the same table with one offering Bush candy and the other Castro. So, it was a major revelation having been exposed to a phenomenon in desert land. The best part is that the rains come with the chill. The chill usually leaves you cold. Now with the rains, that make you nostalgic, the combination is fairly “nostalgicold”.

It’s a lot like memories. And this weighs on me, as heavy as stone and as blue as I go. It’s that time of the year again. Though the shelf life of the event here has been short as can much as it can be, it doesn’t seize to amaze me that the life of memories could be so much longer than you can expect. And currently it’s all scrambled.

I sometimes see a choir, with their brazen faces, singing swansong based on asinine pursuits and canards.

I sometimes hear an aria, from the solo singer above, telling me that the rigmarole isn’t worth it.

It has somehow come down to pens, papers and poison.

Any ways,

Go Obama! And I missed on a bumper sticker. But who cares! The “Brother” still rules!