It had to
be in ’88 when it happened
Flipped on
the public radio station
Late Sunday
evening
Trying to
catch something to zone out to
A couple
of times I caught radio plays
The best
was “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”
The
weirdest were the “Star Wars” ones
I listened either way
What was
on this evening wasn’t a play
It was
music,
Good
music,
The Blues
I listened
for a while
Became involved
and entranced
These were
old blues
Played on
a turntable
Full of
hisses and pops and hard to hear
The kind
that grab you and don’t let go
This was the
kind of show that grabbed you too
Because this
guy, Bob Corritore, knew the blues
Talked about
the songs
Put names
and labels and stories and weight and knowledge
Into every
one he could
He seemed
to know them too
Had met or
played with many of them
So it was
even more good, more fun to hear
Like the
plays I was listening to
Married
to music by Reverend Bob
I got the
idea to record a show or two
Listen to
it in the car when it wasn’t Sunday night
The night
I finally did, like it so often is
Was the
night that mattered
Bob
started going on about the next song
How it was
a long one
Recorded
a long time ago
There was
even some intrigue in the story
Seems the
Rolling Stones had ripped it off
Once I heard
it, I knew why they had
It was “The
Prodigal Son”
It was
sung by Robert Wilkins
It is
nearly ten minutes long
It is one
of the best songs I ever heard
It changed
me, man, it changed me
Over the
next few months I listened
Over and
over I listened
I wore out
the tape listening
Listening to
that gem
Right in
the middle of side B
We
are all prodigal sons
And the blues are how we know
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