This post was brought to you by the number 41

The simple act of riding the metro to and from work has contributed so much to my life. This very blog is a product of the time that I now have to bathe in the rich essence of the songs that flow through my ears on my daily commute. At this very moment, I am standing on the platform at Lionel Groulx, in a nostalgic wax of a trance, having been brought back to a time where the music of The Dave Matthews Band consumed so much of my life. I wasn't the only one and truth be told, I came to the dmb party quite late. For so long, I wrote it off as the music of the complacent masses, marching like sheep to Vermont. I was mistaken.

The rich tapestries woven by this band were unique. They blended so many genres together that the result was in a league of its own. The work of these musicians, each prolific in their own craft, gave us the musical education that no school could provide. Dave was the soundtrack of our lives, of our parties, of our summers. It was the music that pushed us to pick up a guitar and his were the songs that we learned when the first chords eked out of our blistered and frustrated hands. The greatest moments of my adolescence are set to the musings and often incoherent ramblings of Dave Matthews.

Right now, as the mastery of #41 artfully dances through my ears and throughout my body, I can't help but wonder what songs will have that effect on you. It occurs to me that music may not even have that same effect on you. Your euphoria may be derived from food, or yoga or your coin collection (your mom makes fun of me today because as a kid, I never travelled without the entirety of my weighty coin collection, from which I derived much pleasure). All I know is that I look forward to seeing you derive pleasure from whatever it is that you are passionate about. Right now, you're passionate about milk and about getting it out of your body by any means necessary. Let's get past that.


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