No, benighted pop music people. This isn’t about the AC/DC version that energizes guys in their roaring young buck days, but about that slow wailing Mississippi-English Midlands version that Led Zeppelin put out there in the late ‘60’s. A rumbling of sonic power, like a distant thunderstorm, as the song crunches along toward the depths of a despairing love. Fitting emoticon for this late October day? Tom me, it evokes feelings of sadness – check the song out sometime … Yes, I can play it loudly for you and we’ll walk down the street, like a New Orleans funeral procession, while we listen to it!
As you know, I’m a government wonk these days. What would I know of roaring young bucks and the thunderous days of AC/DC? A distant memory on a horizon littered with really cool memories, ambitions and odes to feelings never fully explored.
I’m wondering if Thoreau’s walks ever got him stuck in a writer’s spiderweb of paradoxes, one where you want to scribble a thousand things along a thousand tangents. It’s like yesterday’s blog, which in hindsight can make very little sense. Little sense comes out of it but what a helluva ride until you jump in despair off my weirdo train.
[Hmph] Back to my version of a short story. I could say this song describes Michele – she’s shook my life for almost thirty years. Helluva ride that never gets old, stale nor predictable. I mean, we have a drum set for our recreational use. Monopoly? TV? What a drag. Listen to You Shook Me and then grab your own drumsticks and get to it!