Hmmm? Three songs that mean the most to me....What's the one with the lime and the coconuts?

Hmmm? Three songs that mean the most to me….What’s the one with the lime and the coconuts?

The second assignment in the Daily post is: Write about the three most important songs in your life — what do they mean to you?

But we’re supposed to do it in a “free writing” format. Just let ourselves go for about fifteen minutes and see what happens. Knowing my monkey mind and the way it skips and hops all over the place, this should be interesting.

I don’t like picking the “three most anythings” to me or my “favorite anything.” It’s unrealistic and much too confining. On different days, hours, moments, my answer will change depending on my mood and my memory. How reliable is that? Not very.

I searched my mind thinking about songs. Do you how many songs there are out there. A lot. And that’s just a guess. The perfect three songs for me could be out there and I haven’t even discovered them yet. That would be a real bummer. But I do have two songs that popped into my mind right away as important, so I might as well mention those, right?

The first is “Time in a Bottle” by Jim Croce. When I was graduating from high school (Valedictorian, thank you very much), our class–or rather the popular kids in our class–picked that song as our song to sing for “Class Day,” which is a shindig the seniors put on before the formal graduation to show off, or something equally petty. But that’s not why the song is important to me. I just danced to it with the love of my life at our non-wedding (commitment ceremony). The words really speak to the depth of my love for this man and that we need to make the most of the time we have left, having wasted so much time being married to people who didn’t love us like we love each other. And that’s a fact.

The second song is “The Long and Winding Road” by the Beatles, only I know Paul McCartney wrote it. I once had a dog who seemed more like a human dressed as and Old English sheepdog. His name was Humphrey and we were inseparable, unless I wasn’t with him. When he died, that song became “our” song. I envisioned Humphrey meeting me at the end my long and winding road. My road has been long and winding. Whoo boy, has it ever been! When I learned I had a brain tumor and the doctors in charge of changing their minds about whether to leave tumors alone or take them out decided mine should come out, my younger sister bought tickets to a Paul McCartney concert near where she lives. She wanted to give me the best birthday gift EVER because I always loved Paul and never thought I’d ever get to see him. I think she thought I was a gonner and she’d never have to give me another present, because she spent big bucks on these tickets. We were like 20 rows backs, center, on the floor. They were primo tickets. Paul sang for three hours straight. It was during his first encore that he sat the smaller upright piano facing the crowd (and not the grand piano turned so you could only see his profile), and sang “The Long and Winding Road.” He was looking right at me when he sang it. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I had brain surgery and didn’t die. Obviously.

Time’s up.