by Mike Rosen
‘Sonny sits by his window and thinks to himself
How it’s strange that some rooms are like cages
I’m rediscovering Paul Simon’s 1990 album ‘Rhythm of the Saints’. It was his 8th solo album and the lead single The Obvious Child makes me sing along, every time. Listening, singing, listening, singing, preferably both at high volumes. From the opening staccatos of the drum rhythms, that song has held a special place for me for over 3 decades, I don’t know precisely why, it just does. I’ll try to explain.
Sonny’s yearbook from high school
Is down from the shelf
And he idly thumbs through the pages
Ten years after that album was released I had the opportunity to travel to Brazil for an extended vacation, I had never been out of the country prior. The 10-hour flight to Sao Paulo approached with a clear view of the city. 12 million people. Mile after mile after mile of favelas– impoverished areas, slums, for lack of a better term. Dwellings built from anything and everything, literally on top of one another. Staggering. I had never seen such extensive urban density and poverty. For a kid who grew up in middle-class, midwest, lillywhite suburbia, it was and remains an incredibly awe-inspiring sight and memory. I hadn’t even set foot in Brazil and I was already at a loss from what I had seen. My Brazilian journey had only begun and continued with time in Rio de Janeiro and Salvador de Bahia.
Some have died
Some have fled from themselves
Or struggled from here to get there
Salvador, the capital of the state of Bahia, was incorporated in the late 1500’s and about 3 million people live there. Geographically it’s about as far east as you can go in Brazil and to this day still maintains a strong African-Portuguese influence as a result of its location and history as a major port of immigration. Walking around Salvador I was amazed and overwhelmed by it all. The sights, sounds, and smells. The food, topography, colors, and history. All of it vibrant and the antithesis of suburban Chicago.
We came upon a historic square named Pelourinho Square. In the center are the same steps and the whipping posts where slaves from Africa were bought, sold, publicly beaten, and whipped for alleged infractions. I don’t know a lot about spirituality or mysticism or higher powers and I know simply being in that space, reading stories of slaves and their families, trying to understand and imagine all the souls that had passed through that precise space for centuries moved me to tears in the moment, reflecting on the memory now does the same. Something about that space exuded a sense of deep connection and peace, oddly juxtaposed with the heartbreak and horror of its history. It’s hard for me to articulate the experience fully and clearly.
Sonny wanders beyond his interior walls
Runs his hand through his thinning brown hair’
The opening African/Brazilian drum rhythms of The Obvious Child were recorded in Pelourinho Square. Microphones were strung from windows and telephone poles to capture the natural sounds, rhythms, and energy of that unique space. I hadn’t made that connection at the time of my visit and wish I could have been there to hear it recorded.
The song discusses aging and mortality and I’m using it as an invitation to reflect on my own. This reflection, which helps to inform gratitude around my abundance, reminds me of the many instances where time, place, and music have come together to create a spiritual moment. I’m lucky to have had many of these moments and I’m thankful to have cultivated an awareness to notice them as it’s happening. Have you had moments like this? Places, times, connections to art, music, books or a movie that have moved you, made an indelible mark, created an association or memory that’s lasted for decades? I’d love to hear one of yours. Please share in the Comments section below!
And in remembering a road sign
I am remembering a girl when I was young
And we said these songs are true
These days are ours
These tears are free
And hey
The cross is in the ballpark
The cross is in the ballpark
Why deny the obvious child?
About Mike Rosen
Mike has been part of MenLiving since the first 2012 meeting in Todd’s living room and helps lead the weekly Separation/Divorce support calls. He teaches 4th Grade, loves to move (run, bike, yoga, repeat.), struggles to fully comprehend the size of our solar system, is happiest when he’s laughing with his family, and is an unapologetic fan of Huey Lewis and the News. As a divorced father of 3 young men, Jack(19), Keil and Sam (twin 17yr olds), a large portion of his abundance is found sharing a blended family with Kelly and her children, Evan(19) and Ella(16). He lives in LaGrange, IL, a Chicago suburb.