Damien Jurado – Curbside
I got contacted by an old friend the other day. I haven’t really talked with her in over 10 years. She was one of 100 of us that were thrown into a little sea side town for 9 months with little money and no vehicles. In a town that closed at 6pm with the closest store open past then 16 miles away and the nearest city an hour and a half drive through the mountains. We were truly isolated.
But, we were isolated in community.
Like I said, there were 100 of us. We all had the same classes, ate together, played together and really shared life together. Thinking back on that now I realize that it is what the church has been seeking after for many years; a community of people that have no borders, spending time together is organic and there are deep connections made in an instant.
I have no idea how to get us there.
The reason it worked at that school was because of the isolation. It was a greenhouse I was in for a very short amount of time.
I want to get back.
Not out of a feeling of nostalgia, but because I know that there are people in my neighborhood that would love to share life with each other with the same amount of deepness; open doors, spending evenings around a table, a bon-fire or enjoying a tasty beverage on the front porch.
This is doable.
You’re asking yourself, “what does Damien Jurado’s Curbside have to do with it?” It is the only song I can think of that has, for me, time travel-ability. I listen to music all the time. Some music reminds me of an event. Postal Service’s album reminds me of my honeymoon, but, it doesn’t take me back there. Ninety Pound Wuss reminds me of my friend Josh, but it doesn’t create a sense of being with him.
This song, Curbside, reminds me of that friend—those friends. In a way that is hard to describe. I smell the salt ocean air. I feel the wind coming off of the pacific. I hear the waves crashing as I’m sitting with 1, 2 or 3 of my friends talking about anything. I’m sitting in my dorm with my roommate Josh listening to the album, Elton comes by and starts talking about music with us. Then a couple more guys show up and hang out in the hall. We head out and walk down to the courtyard where we see groups of people, 1, 2, 3 or 4 at a time, doing the same thing. Killing time with each other. Because we had to we wanted to.
We can get back there. Busy lives make it so that we feel we need to close our doors. Safety and security for my family is one of my highest priority. But I don’t want it to mean that we aren’t good neighbors.
Our house is open. We’re fans of the drop-in.
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