|Dad's Riviera looked something like this, except it was red.|
Every morning from our home in St. Charles, he’d get on I-70 at Zumbehl Road going east, cross the Missouri River into St. Louis County, take I-270 South, and then usually exit at Ladue Road to Lindbergh Boulevard and onto Chaminade Drive. Most days, with the sun-glare slowed traffic on the Blanchette Bridge, the trip would take about 40 minutes and we’d pass the time listening to my dad’s 8-tracks. At the time, Jim Croce’s Photographs & Memories: His Greatest Hits was always one of his favorites and I can probably still sing along, word for word, every song on that tape.
|Jim Croce's Photographs & Memories: Soundtrack of My Life|
Anyway, I was recently sitting in a café doing a little bit of work. I think the place subscribes to Spotify and the barista must have chosen the Jim Croce station because, among some of his other great songs, Next Time, This Time played on the speaker just above the sofa where I sat.
That day, sitting in the café in 2017, I heard the song with different ears.
Jim Croce: Next Time, This Time
If there is a soundtrack to my life, I’d certain include this track on the 12-CD box set. Of course, now, I’m not sure whether I’d include the song with the other songs from the early 1980’s or whether it would be among those associated with the 50-year old version of me.