Graceland

The head cold that has been all over Lambertville got on me last week and promptly relocated to my chest as a case of bronchitis. Man. I haven’t had bronchitis since I was twenty, when I still smoked cigarettes. It feels strange. Besides the coughing it comes with a fever, addling the brain, sapping the energy, causing me to forget what I’m even doing here.

A few weeks ago PBS ran a special on Paul Simon and how he went to South Africa back in the eighties, in the days of apartheid, and hired some local bands to come to a studio and jam with him. Their mutual inspiration resulted in Simon’s hit album Graceland. I missed it the first time around. I remember You Can Call Me Al, a great number, but the other songs I missed. So I bought the album from ITunes just before I got sick.

And now it’s the only thing that will get me on my feet. It's true. These tunes will raise the dead. No sleep for three days, no appetite, hardly any reason to carry on at all, and yet these African jazz sounds get me up and dancing.

Check this one out. Diamonds on the Soles of her Shoes. I defy you to sit still, I don't care what shape you're in.

Kate Gallison