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“Sleep Like A Baby Tonight”


It is not unusual for me to like a piece of music – and be clueless as to who the musician is who produced the music.

Furthermore, once I get hooked on a piece of music – whether it be Classical or Alternative or difficult to categorize, like Steve Reich, I will listen to that piece of music until it has crossed through every cell of my organism – at least once.

And once it’s done that …
I’m good.
I move on.
I go back to shuffling songs …


Music is something I cannot live without. But that, in no way, means I get the facts straight, like, who’s who, who did what, or, even …

You mean he’s dead already!

It’s the initial chemical bond between a melody (usually) plus lyrics that grabs me, and holds me there, until my thirst has been quenched.


By the time I had tuned in to Kurt Cobain, he had been dead for almost a year. In fact, we had the Time Magazine with him on the cover, following his suicide(?) on a bathroom sink, spread out with lots of other magazines, and which I had glanced at, disinterestedly – not enough to pick it up and read it.

So when I first heard him on WXRT in Chicago, and I went …

Who is that?
I wanna see him live!

It was then that my curiosity was aroused and I started searching for him …

And soon found, that he was yet another tragic statistic in the Column of Suicide.

That’s when everything clicked.
The magazine cover.
The Artist.
The incredible creativity.
And the tragic end.

Luckily, this time, the ending is not tragic – at least not in that respect. Rather, it’s a matter of historical perspective – the lack of it – based on a global division between me and what is going on in the world outside of mine, which is principally defined by Chaos, and which I’m totally okay with.

I like Chaos.
It suits my temperament.

Thus, I grab snippets here and there, which rarely make it beyond pieces of puzzles I have yet to understand the significance of.

Sleep Like A Baby Tonight

So, here comes the song, thundering into my head, while driving and listening to the dinky sound system of my Smart.

That’s good!

I glance down at my phone and see a provocative image.

That’s progressive!

What the fuck?
I don’t even like U2.

Development of Coherent Narrative

I quickly hit Repeat Song and begin drifting down the streets of Baltimore.

Of course!
It makes total sense.
This has to be early U2 –
Before they sold out.
Before they started making …

And weren’t they provocative then!
A sensual image of two men cover.
What the fuck happened to them!

And his voice.
I’ve never heard him reach such notes before. And a musically fascinating composition. With lyrics to match.

I’m impressed.
And Depressed.
They sold out.

It never crossed my mind how that music got into my library. Primarily because my son Andrew is also passionate about music and I keep learning things from him about musical artists I knew of when I was an adolescent but hadn’t explored as carefully until he prompted my curiosity to listen to them once again. Another example of the incredible gifts your kids have to give you, the parent. So I assumed he had slipped them into my music library, as he has often done in the past.

Putting The Pieces Together

I immediately went to my computer (as usual) and flipped through my music library, while playing other songs already queued, looking for U2.

But why?

I already knew I didn’t have them on my iTunes. I go through my library every morning and queue the music according to my mood that day, and I had never come across U2.

So why?
I’ll let the professionals figure that one out.

Pulling The Strings Together

I’m guessing what it did for me is take me to the next level. It verified that I did not have that album in my library.

Initially I was puzzled.
So how did it get on my phone?
And so I went and actually looked at the album on my phone and I saw all these clouds!


Then the pieces started falling into place.

Tim Cook

And I’m thinking …

Edward Snowden.
Remember him?

You people are raving because U2 gave you a musical gift?
A brilliant treasure?

But in doing so …
They violated your privacy?

What a sick world we live in …

But you know what?
I slept like a baby that night.

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