My Tongue Turns To Dust

Music means a lot to me: It shifts my mood as much as any antidepressant could; it helps me understand myself and the world around me; it makes me feel less lonely. And music has an uncanny way of pinning itself to a moment, of being in exactly the right place at the right time.

What do I mean? Only that I believe in a sort of musical karma. Songs find us at the moment we need them, like this Wilco song did for me this morning while I was riding my bicycle:

"Please Be Patient With Me"

I should warn you
When I'm not well
I can't tell
Oh, there's nothing I can do
To make this easier for you

You're gonna need to be patient with me

I'm this apple, this happening stone
When I'm alone
Oh, but my blessings get so blurred
At the sound of your words

I'm gonna need you to be patient with me

How can I warn you when my tongue turns to dust
Like we've discussed
It doesn't mean that I don't care
It means I'm partially there

You're gonna need to be patient with me

Well said, Jeff Tweedy. Well said. And in case you're wondering what the song sounds like, here's an acoustic version that looks like it was shot at Tweedy's house. Haunting. And so very true.