got im'd on napster yesterday by a guy from france who was downloading maria, by blondie.  'hi', he said.  i said, 'hey.'  blondie hasn't been in france lately, he said.  he's a 35-year-old firefighter, in Strasbourg, France.  '...and u?' he innocently asked. 

he didn't know i used to be a firefighter—how could he?  but i sat there frozen for a moment, as my frame of reference expanded in a breathtaking instant from the 18 inch space between me and my monitor to the 3711 mile space between me and this guy in france.  whhoooh.  just remembering it is a rush. 

the poor guy was then subjected to a gush of my reminiscences about firefighting.  he sent a pic, and asked me for one.  i sent my best one—me at work last year.  but i think he wants pics of people around firefighting stuff—like his pic.  i have none. 

listening.  overtaken by the sounds of garrison keillor's banter with greg brown, and i recall that music is people -- human people, human hearts, simple sound. 

listening to 'never so far' performed by greg brown on a prarie home companion in october 2000.  its surface has the naked texture of brushed metal, the sound of greg's voice does - and it's as substantial as iron, it's so very deep and gentle. 

gotta be careful, or be overtaken...