I have become prey to the latest cultural phenomenon sweeping the nation: using the phrase “That Moment When…” in Facebook status updates, Tweets, and (yes) blog posts. On one hand the phrase is a hallmark of how our generation lives in the now, and is paying attention to the full, potentially absurd immediate and historical context of each situation we find ourselves in. On the other more pessimistic hand, it’s a testament to how our hipster goldfish brains are endlessly distracted by the latest shiny object and obsessed with others noticing how awesome our life appears to be.
(Please now take a solemn moment to consider what a hipster goldfish/hipster goldfish brain might look like. It probably would include Ray Bans and fin rings. Or this or this. Also, the Pessimistic Hands is a great band name.)
Notwithstanding all of that, last night I was at Value Village and discovered a CD of John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme, unscratched, for $1.99.
Two measly bucks! A legendary album! Did I mention no scratches?
Ladies and gentlemen, for a music lover who has just spent the last six weeks listening to nothing but instrumental music, especially jazz and classical, this felt like the crowning achievement of a Lent well-weathered. I’m not saying it was put there by a Certain Higher Power so I would find it as a Reward for my Suffering, but ok yes I am really saying that and it was completely awesome thanks bye.
I would also like to take this opportunity to point out that 15 years ago, “swag” was a word for awesome stuff you get at a concert like t-shirts, stickers, and music, or what you would call a rare find or sweet deal. Now the former noun has taken on a whole different ambiguous identity as an adjective/adverb/interjection, a linguistic development which I neither appreciate nor understand. I guess I’m not such a hipster after all.
But John Coltrane? Yeah, I get that. Or, at least as much as a person really can.