If it isn’t the smells, it’s the sounds.

This song came on in the midst of the iPhone shuffle this morning as I was sitting on the #1 bus heading into Central after yoga. I had an immediate response to the instrumental intro that functioned like some sort of teleportation device. As powerful as smell, sound gets right to the heart of my matter.

I was at home.

Suddenly I was sitting in the Flatiron having breakfast and Bloody Marys watching college football. Or I was watching some silly girl try to use the cigar clippers at the Toronado in the late, late night. Or was I sitting in the Marin Brewing Company? Or having a margarita (but avoiding the food) at The Cantina (RIP) in Mill Valley ?

It made me want to be at home right that very second, back where I (most likely) belong.


It is funny because, really, the song should remind me of my early days in Hong Kong as it is a perennial favorite of the very excellent Filipino cover bands that provide the Wan Chai late night soundtrack and frequent Insomnia in LKF.

But it doesn’t.

Hearing it I was right back in the Bay Area in 1994. Drinking good beer, speculating about the future, out late or smiling in the sunshine, and feeling pretty damn fine about all of it.

It is time to do all that again.

[This is dedicated to Ex #2. He knows why. Good times. ]


About Amanda

I am repatriating expatriate trying to work it all out. Well, to work some of it out anyhow. I am writing here for sanity, focus and general over-sharing.
This entry was posted in Friends, Home, Life, Music, Perception and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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