Like Listening to an Angel

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Track One on tonight’s drive will be Never
Gonna Stop, by Rob Zombie. I showed that

song to Megh a while ago and now she
plays it on repeat. She digs all the A

Clockwork Orange references in it
and so do I. The video was great.

Remember Rob and his droogs in the car?
The Durango. Number 95. Home.

“I’m siiingin’ in the rain. Just siiingin’ in
the rain.” Depending on your taste

you just cringed or smiled or both, if you’re
a psychopath or sad Gene Kelly’s dead.

The music video for the song was
a tribute to something Mr. Zombie loves:

movies. Insane, wicked gory movies.
You know … like all of his work? What a guy.

Wish I could meet him. Can’t though. If I did,
I’d be just another asshole to him

like I was to Bob Dylan when I walked
us up to him on the street. I told Megh

I would do it and I did, because he’s
her favorite singer-songwriter and

now he’s mine too. Confession time: If not
for Meghan, I never would have really

heard Bob Dylan. She led me to him in
the musical sense the way I did in

the literal sense when I followed the
signs to the front door of the Hank Williams

museum downtown. He blew us off. So?
I probably would have done the same thing.

Where was I? Oh yeah. Meghan showed me Bob.
I showed her Led Zeppelin and Nirvana.

She tried to show me Rufus Wainwright and
I said, “No thanks, but I really enjoyed that Jeff

Buckley CD you played the other day.”
In fact, that’s my choice for Track Two on our

car ride tonight: Grace, by Jeff Buckley. He’s
a phenomenal singer. It’s almost…

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