There is a Talking Heads song that is carved into the soundtrack of the ’80s. This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody).
A song so tied to the movie Wall Street that I still see Charlie Sheen whenever David Byrne belts out those gorgeous lyrics.
For me, it is more than nostalgia. Every time I hear it, I also hear the voice of the late Lin Brehmer from WXRT. His iconic sign-off echoes in my head: “Take nothing for granted. It’s great to be alive.” Lin understood what that song stood for. That home isn’t just a place, it’s a feeling. It’s the people, the small gestures, the fleeting comforts that make us feel like we belong.
The last night I ever slept under my Oldman’s roof, he left a towel and washcloth folded on the guest bed. On top sat his old Grundig Yacht Boy radio. On the nightstand, a perfect cup of tea... splash of milk, rounded teaspoon of sugar. Just the way I drank it.
I turned on the Grundig, and there it was:
“Home is where I want to be…
Pick me up and turn me round…
I feel numb, born with a weak heart.”
I showered in that creaky 1920s tub and fell asleep for the last time with my Oldman just down the hall. I haven’t really had a home since. Just landing pads along the way, but that night still holds me.
Today, I bet half of Chalkhead Nation will listen to that song. Because it is more than music... it’s comfort.
Like a bowl of soup, an old Champion sweatshirt, or the smell of Arm & Hammer detergent on a towel at your dad's house.
While we’re all here sharing this life for just a minute or two, love each other until your hearts stop. Feet on the ground. Head in the sky.
In the Grabber Section today, Noli rumoribus credere/Do not believe rumors.
Believe in each other.
