Sunday Mornings: Coffee, Reflections and Music

A rolled down car window open to the elements on a cold autumnal evening might not be the first place one thinks of when it comes to finding a common bond with our fellow humans. But that was exactly what happened a few weeks ago as I was cycling home from work. For a fleeting instant and for less than twenty yards, a car and my bike found themselves almost side to side. Just as the vehicle was about to turn left, through the rolled down window I caught the notes of a melody I had not heard for many years...

“... my lips search for your lips/and I’m hungry for your touch/there’s so much left unspoken...”

... and I’m falling apart all around you/and all I can do is surrender... I automatically finished the rest of the verse in my head as I cycled on.

Queen’s One Year of Love was the third track on their highly successful album A Kind of Magic from 1986 (it was also part of the soundtrack of the movie Highlander). Perhaps less known than the record’s standout hits One Vision, Friends Will Be Friends and the title track, it is still a beautiful song in its own right. It is also a cheesy melody. Even I, long-time Queen fan (as in real Queen fan, album tracks Queen fan as opposed to Greatest Hits Queen fan), have to admit that One Year of Love has “cheesy” written all over its schmaltzy face. But I never cared before and I still don’t. And on this chilly November evening I cared even less. The serendipitous combination of car and bike pulling up together at the junction, turning to the same side and the open window through which the lines “...and no one ever told me that love would hurt so much/and pain is so close to pleasure...” wafted into the cold early evening air made me believe that here was another human being connecting with me somehow on a deep musical level. It is not that I was surprised that someone was listening to Queen, it is simply that not many people would listen to this particular track at all. Most of the music that blares out of car stereos, flats and shops in my little patch in London, falls under two categories: chart/hip hop music or non-Anglo-Saxon tunes. The latter are usually Turkish, Kurdish, Somali, Hindu, Greek and in recent years Eastern European songs. Occasionally some reggae joins the chart/hip hop duopoly, played mainly by the guy who runs the bike shop just down the road.

An open car window, a handshake of the soul

I couldn’t see if the driver of the car next to me was a man or a woman, what s/he looked like or even what type of motor s/he was driving. The one, single element that stayed with me was this song that united us both for a few precious seconds. When people ask me what makes me a humanist I point at examples like this one. They might be seen as simple, but in their simplicity lies a more complex understanding of the ties that bind us, humans, together. A few days after my musical experience I came across a column by the priest-in-charge at St Mary’s Newington church, Giles Fraser, on humanism. I like Giles’ writing and I tend to agree with a lot of what he says but on this occasion I thought he was slightly wide of the mark. He cast doubts on humanism’s ability to value irrational beings in the same way as rational ones. I do not think that his comments were fair on humanism or humanists. To me humanism seeks to establish a common identity amongst all those who inhabit this planet, rational or irrational. Of course, we, humans, can make sense of this/these identity marker(s) consciously whilst cats cannot, or willows for that matter. That does not mean we think less of then; it only means we see them in a different light, but we still value their contribution to our world.

It is strange what a rolled down car window open to the elements on a cold autumnal evening can do to one’s intellect. But combine that with an unexpected song and you have yet another reason to believe that we have more traits in common as humans than some might think. Let’s have a toast to that, shall we?

This is my last post before I disappear for a month as I always do at this time of the year. It has been a very good twelve months during which I have listened to some fantastic music, read some great books and watched some very interesting and thought-provoking movies. Of course, I have also visited many good blogs on which I have seen some breath-taking photos, read some amazing poetry and well-crafted, entertaining posts. One of the reasons why I continue to blog after seven and a half years is that I feel part of a big family, an accepting family that keeps growing and getting stronger. Thank you all for your continuous feedback and support. And thank you for existing, too.



© 2014

Next Post: “Sunday Mornings: Coffee, Reflections and Music”, to be published on Sunday 11^th January at 10am (GMT)