Hard Shoulder

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About twenty-five years ago one of my good buddies, Terry, bought me a Christmas present - a book about Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits. Not sure if everyone knows of the man or the music, but I've been loyal through the years.

I've purchased every note of music that Knopfler has produced. His weeping guitar and soft lyrics have accompanied me through many moods. Sometimes the expert-playing takes me to a level of thought that shows itself in some of the darker things I've ever written.

Through the years, Knopfler has been on in the background nearly every time I've sat down to write. He's on right now. A new album called Get Lucky. If you want to get lucky, buy yourself a copy - it's awesome again.

Why all of this comes up is because Friday night I was stuck in traffic on the Thruway. I had the car in park, so I picked up the Buffalo News and read the Gusto. There was an announcement saying Knopfler was coming to Buffalo.

Returning home, I told my wife that I had a Christmas gift in mind. Since she never knows what to get me, she was psyched. Yet I couldn't wait. Sure that it would sell out quickly, I sat at the computer, retrieved a pair of tickets, and promptly bought them. And I thought of my brothers and sisters and Terry, and how I'd love to share the night with any one of them, but something told me that this one was for me and my older brother, John.

He didn't answer my call, but immediately called me back.
"What're you doing?" I asked.

"Working out," he said...and get this..."Listening to Golden Heart from Knopfler."

I swear I'm not making that up.

"Well I just bought you a ticket to see him in concert. He's coming in April."

John is not the most excitable guy in the bunch, unless you get him mad, but I heard excitement in his voice, and it blew my mind that sometimes the will of the universe is so freaking powerful.

Man's broken down...Man's broken down on the slip road. Got a slipped load and it's a hard shoulder to cry on. Give me a minute we'll be going again. Sound as a pound and right as rain, right as rain. And it's a hard shoulder to cry on. To cry on.

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