David Byrne was the musical act on SNL recently, and I’m all veklempt. I have watched it 5 times, and I am pretty embarrassed that I have cried each time. (You can watch the bare-footed, gray-suit-wearing, crazy-dancing performance in the clip, below.)
Why does this performance make me cry? Let me clarify that I am crying tears of happiness. And besides the fact that I am sometimes inappropriately emotional (according to my kids), I’ve been trying to find a rational reason why David Byrne is making me cry.
1. David Byrne’s performance is spectacular
It is awesome. It’s a great song, and he’s an incredible performer. I think it is pure genius, and strange, and wonderful. Could it be that its artistic beauty is making me cry?
Certain works of astonishing art have provoked tears from me. For example, Michelangelo’s Pieta at St. Peter’s at the Vatican brought me to tears.
The musical “Hamilton” had me speechless and in tears at the same time. Beautiful, breathtaking, soul-rocking art gets me and brings on the waterworks.
While I think David Byrne on SNL was really fantastic — right up there with Michael Jackson singing Billie Jean at the Motown 25 event (back before we knew he had a creepy private life) — I don’t necessarily think I’m crying because it is beautiful art. There is something else there.
2. It is joyful and fun.
Those dancers. . . the musicians. . . the drummers. . . the weird red-headed guy. It makes me very happy, and I wish I was up on that stage with them. I adore it for these reasons, but I don’t think that’s the main reason why I’m crying.
3. I love the Talking Heads, and their songs evoke great memories.
The Talking Heads became popular in 1983, my sophomore year of college. Their songs were the anthems of my college career. I can’t hear them without picturing my bad perm and shoulder pads, dancing at a sorority party (pictured here with my awesome cousin, who I hope doesn’t mind a throwback to 1984).
Ahhh. Good times, made better with the Talking Heads. The Talking Heads have a special place in my heart, but I don’t think that’s why I’ve watched the SNL tape 5 times and cried each time.
4. SNL introduced a new generation to a classic, and he rocked it.
As my kids grew up, I couldn’t wait to introduce them to performances that I have thought were terrific. I wanted them to love “Seinfeld” and “My Cousin Vinny” and “Pulp Fiction.”
I want my kids — and their generation — to know and appreciate the Talking Heads, and to find them relevant. Could I be searching for my own relevance in this desire? Maybe. Nonetheless, there are many entertaining, important, and relevant performances that didn’t happen in the last decade, and the young’uns need to know about them.
5. Finally, the song “Once In a Lifetime” is meaningful (at least to me).
When I was a kid — a wise old sage of 21 — this song represented all those adults who hadn’t paid attention to their lives, and ended up where they didn’t mean to be:
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house with a beautiful wife, and you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here? . . . .
Same as it ever was. Same as it ever was. Same as it ever was. . .
You may ask yourself “What is that beautiful house?” You may ask yourself “Where does that highway go to?”
And you may ask yourself “Am I right? Am I wrong?
And you may say to yourself “My God, what have I done?”
With youthful hope and arrogance, I knew I’d never let life get away from me. I would control my destiny, and not just be carried away, as if by the flow of water. “Same as it ever was” was not going to apply to me. No way. I was going to be intentional, and unique.
Fast forward 35 years. “Well, how did I get here?” How did I land in a suburb in Ohio? What am I doing married, with two (almost) adult kids, and no life-enhancing accomplishment to brag about? How did that happen? And how did it happen so quickly? I’m suddenly 55, with wrinkles and sagging body parts. Life got away from me. “Letting the days go by.” That’s what I did.
But actually that’s not so bad. In fact it’s kind of beautiful. It’s pretty extraordinary that life has carried me where I am. With little effort — and certainly no worthiness — I am incredibly blessed. I have a loving family, and supportive friends, a roof over my head, good food — and even better wine. Little miracles every day, like a husband who still makes me laugh.
And sometimes big miracles. Here’s an example. Two years ago I found myself in Israel, on a boat in the Sea of Galilee — the sea that Jesus walked on. The early morning mist was on the water, and we took a moment of silence to contemplate our location. I looked at this ancient spot, where Jesus walked on water, and I thought, “Well, how did I get here?” How did a girl from Ardmore, Oklahoma, find herself on a boat in the middle of the Sea of Galilee, feeling the love of God, family and friends? Even if I had been savvy enough at 21 to chart a path to someday be in that location, I probably couldn’t have made that happen. “Letting the days go by” has led to a pretty remarkable life, even if it wasn’t the path I intended at 21. It’s extraordinary where life takes you.
Once in a lifetime, indeed.
For more about letting the days go by, please see:
- Love is a Diet Coke with a wedge of lemon
- If You Think You’ve Grown Apart, Consider Pearls!
- I Loved Halloween When My Kids Couldn’t Drive!
- I have a she-shed; so should you
- Top Ten Things About Being Over 50
- Buying a New Car is Breaking My Heart a Little
