Ride Like the Wind
I really like a few Christopher Cross songs. I actually heard one yesterday, ‘Ride Like the Wind’ and I thought of a couple of things.
1). My college roommate once ran into him in New Jersey. He was sitting in a lawn chair, playing a guitar at a party on the shore. “He was a little chubby,” my buddy said. “But he was great.”
2). The song came out in 1980.
“40-f***ing years ago!” I said to the inside of my car. “Wow!”
As luck might have it, on the very next job, my amazement about how time has just flown on by, like it was riding away on the wind, was brought to mind.
“How old are you now?” The old friend on the construction site asked me.
“I’ll be 56 in October,” I said.
“I’m 62,” he said. “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be at this.”
“Man, I’ve known you, what, 20 years?”
“About that,” he said. “We were young men then.”
“For sure.”
He seemed wistful.
“Damn,” he finally said. “Gets you thinking, right? How much time do we got left? 20 more? Think how fast that went.”
“You know the Christopher Cross song, ‘Ride Like the Wind’?” I asked.
He looked at me like I had three eyes, but he finally nodded.
“It’s 40 years old!” I said.
“Come on!” He said.
“When you and I met I had a 12-year-old and a 10-year-old,” he said. “Now they’re starting to lose their hair.”
I laughed.
“It’s a blink of an eye,” we both said, at once.
We chatted a bit about life after construction sites. Neither of us having much of an appetite for what that’s gonna’ look like.
“I’ll probably do this part-time even after I don’t need to work anymore,” he said.
“Or we can stop getting up at 5:30,” I said.
We kicked around how much money we’ll need or if social security will still be there when we need it, or if it’ll go to some investment banker who needs another yacht.
Finally my hand was on the door to leave.
“Really?” He asked. “That song is really 40 years old?”
“Ride like the Wind,” I called back.
1). My college roommate once ran into him in New Jersey. He was sitting in a lawn chair, playing a guitar at a party on the shore. “He was a little chubby,” my buddy said. “But he was great.”
2). The song came out in 1980.
“40-f***ing years ago!” I said to the inside of my car. “Wow!”
As luck might have it, on the very next job, my amazement about how time has just flown on by, like it was riding away on the wind, was brought to mind.
“How old are you now?” The old friend on the construction site asked me.
“I’ll be 56 in October,” I said.
“I’m 62,” he said. “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be at this.”
“Man, I’ve known you, what, 20 years?”
“About that,” he said. “We were young men then.”
“For sure.”
He seemed wistful.
“Damn,” he finally said. “Gets you thinking, right? How much time do we got left? 20 more? Think how fast that went.”
“You know the Christopher Cross song, ‘Ride Like the Wind’?” I asked.
He looked at me like I had three eyes, but he finally nodded.
“It’s 40 years old!” I said.
“Come on!” He said.
“When you and I met I had a 12-year-old and a 10-year-old,” he said. “Now they’re starting to lose their hair.”
I laughed.
“It’s a blink of an eye,” we both said, at once.
We chatted a bit about life after construction sites. Neither of us having much of an appetite for what that’s gonna’ look like.
“I’ll probably do this part-time even after I don’t need to work anymore,” he said.
“Or we can stop getting up at 5:30,” I said.
We kicked around how much money we’ll need or if social security will still be there when we need it, or if it’ll go to some investment banker who needs another yacht.
Finally my hand was on the door to leave.
“Really?” He asked. “That song is really 40 years old?”
“Ride like the Wind,” I called back.
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