When it Snows Outside/Musicbox

The best time for snow is late at night. The hours between twelve and three are perfect for a wintry haze. Insomniacs, college kids and the restless are awake for these showers of pristine glow. The moist whiteness falls onto unclouded roads, left unaltered by footprints or tire tracks. They are the few moments of the day where one can look out and sense the overruling omniscience of nature, enveloping our tiny communities and cities and states, billowing over the work that we’ve done. It’s like a haphazard alarm, sporadically reminding us that there are some things that we can’t control.

Here's another one of my musings, this one about music.

Today as I was sitting in the car at the mall, waiting in the parking lot for Rilo Kiley to end their song and David Dye to take a commercial break and I found myself thinking. What if, human beings could walk around to the melody of their own perpetual and ethereal soundtrack? A heavenly ipod that only the listener can hear. It’s like living in your own bubble that comes fully equipped with an overhead boom box. Everyone would have one, and only they would hear it. It would be like if God were the ultimate DJ and innately knew what each person wanted to hear at each moment. He would interrupt and end their song if someone about to have a conversation approached them or if it were a nuisance. Uncomplicated, it would be. No gadgets, no device to carry and weigh you down. If only our lives were like they are on film, narrated by a beautiful soundtrack that accompanies your scenes and fits your moods.