Music Notes

There's a cafe/bookstore that I walk past every morning on my way to Serbian class. It's where the hip kids from the just-down-the-block University of Belgrade's philosophy department hang out. The name of the cafe is Plato.

It usually plays music loudly. It's usually quite good.

Today was no exception. On the way to class, it was Lou Reed's 'Perfect Day.' I smiled and thought of a bus trip across the Sinai to meet up with H in Israel, listening to a borrowed mix tape and hearing that song for the first time. I thought of D, how he told me that he sang that song to himself for weeks after his beloved Red Sox won The Series last year.

And on the way home from class, it was Manu Chao. I smiled and thought of a man I met while walking along Havana's malecon, his recommendation that I listen to Manu Chao. I thought of the beautiful coincidence that one of my traveling companions had a tape of his music along with her. I thought of buying pirated copies of Manu Chao's CDs in Madrid and of all the odd places that his music has appeared in my life since then: parties, on airplanes, movie soundtracks, on VH1 Europe last week.

And the world felt very small. And I felt very happy.