How/when acquired: Free download, 2009.
At dinner last night with a small group of much-loved friends, the discussion turned from popular stuff we hate (always a favorite topic) to the rare things that are both popular and excellent. I'd put this album in that category.
This track, in particular, I downloaded not because I knew anything about The Avett Brothers but because it was free. On first listen I didn't much like it. It sounded jangly and discordant, and I wasn't even sure the instruments were in tune. By the third listen, it was one of my favorite songs of the year.
This morning I'll head over to the last session of Bouchercon and say goodbye to my friends, many of whom I don't know when I'll see again. Then I'll get on a plane and fly to New York, and I'll spend tonight in Brooklyn, in the sanctuary of another friend.
I am not a demonstrative person, but have hugged more people in the last three days than I had in the previous 12 months. I almost never tell the people I care most about how I really feel, because I honestly think it would embarrass them and I know it would embarrass me. Instead I've listened to this song five times in a row while I wrote this blog post, because The Avett Brothers understand:
Three words that became hard to say:
I and love and you.