Savour Part 2: Split-Second Glimpses & Snapshots & Sounds

To savour food is one thing, but could it be applied more broadly? Savour: to taste life and enjoy it completely. Enter the National, that quintet of Ohio middle-aged men known for their “sad dad rock.” Hmmm . . . I used to baulk at the thought of being a fan of dad rock. Yet, here I am, not only a dad, but at times a sad one to boot. It is probably no surprise that “sad dad rock” would resonate with me. I have followed the band over the course of two decades. Now, with their ninth studio album, First Two Pages of Frankenstein, the band has found me again. Track 3, in particular, New Order T-shirt, tickles all the right places for me, at this stage of my life.

            The song has all the markings of what has made the National famous. The quietly restrained baritone vocals of Matt Berninger layered over the lush and wistful sounds of nostalgic lament. Lyrically, Berninger presents us with a series of frustratingly vague and opaque lines, as though we are being given a peak at memories only he, or the protagonist, can hope to have any connection with. When “you in a Kentucky aquarium talking to a shark in a corner” features as a refrain throughout the song, the listener has little chance of making any kind of lyrical connection. But then, the chorus.

I keep what I can of you
Split-second glimpses and snapshots and sounds . . .
I carry them with me like drugs in a pocket.

            Ohhh. That resonates. Cause isn’t that just life? Making our way through the world, keeping what we can of those we love, left with a mosaic of memories that return to us down the road as split-second glimpses and snapshots and sounds? Yeah, that got my attention and hit me hard.

            In life, we fortunate ones, are gifted people to love. But we don’t get to keep them. No freeze frame. No time standing still in those perfect moments together. Time moves on; those we love change and grow. It happens so fast, you can miss it. So we keep what we can—memories of moments in time, experiences shared. There are times of ecstasy and laughter, times of grief and heartache. There are also quieter snapshots: reading together on a rainy day, lazy Saturday mornings under the sheets, maybe even that time you caught your loved one talking to a shark in some corner of an aquarium in Kentucky.

            Whatever the memories, they are always kind of bittersweet. Bitter in that we can never stay or recreate those moments. Sweet in that they remind us of a shared history, the gift of sharing time and space with people we love. On many a day, that is a drug that can sustain us.

            This song stands as a goat-on-cow sound for me every time I hear it. So where is the invitation? Simple. It is an invitation to savour. Wake up, Brad. Keep waking up every single day. Time is fleeting. Keep making memories, and remember to pause occasionally and drink it all in. Linger in the sounds and sights and smells of moments with those you love. Cause it will be gone soon enough, and you can’t keep that moment or that person stuck in time. So enjoy it as it happens, and remember to whisper a prayer of thanks for the gift. Then carry on walking with those you love.