Death Moments

No, trust me, I haven’t died yet. Nor has anyone in my immediate circle of humans. What I mean by “death moment” is a moment so incredibly good that if I died during said moment or whilst enjoying the emotional afterglow of the moment, I would die happy. Or at least happy enough.

Death Moments can’t be planned; they just happen, and one just happened on Sunday evening as Wifey, B, and I made our way home from a 7-1 State Cup loss. 

We were about halfway home in our 45-minute drive and I had the new Lil Yachty playing on Spotify®. Yes, a 49-year-old white-assed dad was listening to Lil Yachty, but that is a whole other post for another time. Let’s just say my indie music-loving self is oddly drawn to mumble rap with good beats for some unknown reason, and I dig a few tracks on the new Yachty. Also, rap is B’s thing, so it makes him happy during our travels and post-match comedowns. As far as Wifey, she’s one of those music freaks that will happily listen to almost anything other than Murder Ballads (especially O’Malley’s Bar) by Nick Cave without complaint.

So, we’re about halfway through the track Dynamic Duo when from the backseat, B asks, “what’s that song you listen to, about lightning, crying lighting, or something?” “DO YOU MEAN CRYING LIGHTING BY THE ARCTIC MONKEYS???” I excitedly and loudly replied.

“Yeah, that’s it! Can I put that song on?”

“Hell yes, son!!”

So I pass the phone back to him, and he ques up Crying Lighting, I turned up the volume, and we sped down the highway with the Arctic Monkeys blaring from the Escape’s hi-fi and all three of us singing along like out of tune fools. 

B would continue playing various Arctic Monkeys’ songs for the remaining 20 minutes of our drive, and at times I could barely think straight with wondering how he knew all the words! I mean, I know I have been a ‘Monkeys fan for 15 of B’s 17 years on the planet, but him? Other than a song or two, I never knew! In any event, I was grinning my ass off, thinking how lucky I was to have just watched my son play a great match of footy (despite the lopsided defeat), I got to do what I love by taking photos, and now I’m singing along to one of my favorite bands with my two favorite people in the world; surely there must be a 16-ton weight hovering above me waiting to crush me, surely this was my “death moment.”

It was not. But it was a moment that I won’t forget anytime soon.

Later.

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