Blowin' in the Wind

A few years back I unexpectedly heard Steve Winwood singing on a Saturday afternoon Celtic radio show. I had never heard the song before. The lyrics and his voice were haunting and absolutely beautiful. I learned it was a Davey Spillane song from his CD ~ A Place Among the Stones ~. Davey Spillane is a player of the uillean pipes and the low whistle. An accomplished musician on his own, their collaboration in the song Forever Frozen left me breathless.

It was a hide and seek story with this song until it was recently posted on youtube. I found it on the night of the Wolf Moon last week. I have tickets for the upcoming Winwood tour and am looking forward to seeing him on the 13^th. The happiness in finding Forever Frozen reminded me of a serendipitous Winwood incident when I was 15. One Saturday in winter my friend and I had walked to the Garden State Plaza from Wood-Ridge to hang out in Sam Goody’s record store. Perusing the albums in the TRAFFIC category I came upon an album I had never seen or heard of before. The cover was a sepia toned picture of Steve with WINWOOD printed in bold black letters on the side. It was a double album anthology of his work to date, from Spencer Davis to Blindfaith. There was only one and it was $4.99. I had all of two dollars and my friend had one. As it was we already planned on walking home so we could save the .75 for the bus and instead eat. I went home thinking of nothing else but the album. I had loved his voice since I was nine. My brother who had endlessly played the first TRAFFIC album introduced me to it. Not allowed to touch his records I would sit on the steps near his room when he played the album and listen. Winwood’s voice always stopped me in my tracks. Dylan, my brother Brian’s favorite, would keep me going.

On Monday morning I walked to school as usual going up the hill of Marlboro Road. I wasn’t happy about reaching the top because it was so windy and the steep incline of the hill offered protection. I was walking in the gutter because the sidewalks were so crooked from the oak tree roots and should I encounter other kids I wouldn’t have to walk around them. The second reason speaks directly to my teenage years. As I reached the crest of the hill something was blowing directly toward me, in a hurry. I thought it was a leaf, but it was green, not winter brown. I reached down and picked up a $20 bill. There wasn’t another person out on the block. I was amazed. That night I begged my Mom to take me to Paramus. She worked full time and I’m sure it was the last thing she wanted to do on a Monday night after cooking dinner. She relented after I explained there was only one though I believe she too was amazed how the money had found me. As I write this, the album is on the table next to me, thirty something years later still one of my favorite things. I guess on some level I was listening when Brian played Dylan and he sang, “The answer is blowin in the wind”.