An excerpt from FLOPPY PARTS by Don Miller
http://goo.gl/GIssEq
Every time I run I listen to music on my pink IPOD Shuffle. It helps with the monotony and pain of mile after mile after…. With me for nearly every running or walking miss-step for the last several years, it has long outlasted several less colorful IPODS or Shuffles and due to its longevity, owes me no service. What is disconcerting about my IPOD is that it seems to have a mind of its own or, at the very least, is inhabited by a ghost. No matter what playlist I transfer to it, the Crosby, Stills and Nash song “Southern Cross” somehow finds its way onto the playlist. I even have a Jimmy Buffett version which doubles the chances of it haunting me. It is not as good as the original but not bad and when I hear it or the original I am transported back into my memories. It’s not that I don’t like the song, I do. I like it very much because the memories that the song invokes makes me think of a longtime friend who was for a short time the object of my floppy parts and affection. She left this world several years ago and I find that the song makes me a bit sad and introspective. After a while I do begin to smile over our antics from almost four decades ago as we traveled a bumpy path toward “hooking up.” If you have read the “Devil’s Spawn” you are ahead of the game. After teaching together for several years, we would both go through trashed marriages and without consulting each other decided to make the typical lifestyle changes associated with newly divorced folk. As a male I felt duty bound to go out and purchase the requisite sports car that I could not afford while Jane lost forty pounds in weight, which she could afford. Yes, typical, and for a brief period I found Jane riding around in my sports car.