Like a lot of people, when life becomes uncertain, I look for signs. Signs of what is to come. For my best friend Dani, a black crow is a very bad omen. A friend on FB watched a red flower flutter through her window during a time of transition, and she read that as a good sign. For me, I turn to music. I flip on a random radio station and whichever song the D.J. plays next, that’s my message.
On the morning I loaded up my car with two children, a bouncing Jack Russell Terrier puppy, and an angry kitty, along with as many clothes and toiletries as we could make room for, I needed a sign. Was our big move from San Diego to the Bay Area going to be a good one? We’re we going to like our new town and make new friends? Would it be cold every single freaking day of the year like many strangers told me to expect?
I turned to the all-knowing fortune teller, my trusty Volkswagen Jetta’s, car radio.
It played three seconds of London Calling while I immediately searched for an interpretation that related to my life, but then it switched again to Another Brick In The Wall, before I could come up with a meaning, it switched again. Satisfaction, by the Rolling Stones. Ahh, that’s a good sign. But no, then it went on to Lola.
What the heck? I turn on the radio for a song that will tell me weather we are going to be happy in our new life, and it gives me a smattering of sample music. Sure, I could take this as a sign. Life is complicated. You never know what you can expect. Whatever. I decide to wait for it. I will wait for the song that will inevitable be played in full after all of these teasers. That will be the song the shows me my destiny. And then it happens.
They played…Led Zepplin’s Rock and Roll
It’s been a long time since I rock-and-rolled
It’s been a long time since I did the Stroll
Ooh, let me get it back, let me get it back, let me get it back
mm-baby, where I come from
It’s been a long time, been a long time
Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time
Yes, it has
Well clearly I knew what that meant. I was born in San Francisco. It’s been a long time since I had some crazy good times. That’s right, it’s been a long time since I rock and rolled. It’s time to get back to where I come from. Yes, the song was telling me, I needed to return to my native city. This is where my family should go. It was meant to be.
With my good fortune in hand, I pasted a smile on my face. We were all going to be just fine.
The angry kitty mewled the entire trip, Darby the dog hopped around the car and barked at the wind, my two boys asked “Are we there yet?” a bazillion times, but we drove on. I made one formal pit stop for food, gas, and an IN-N-OUT Burger restroom respite. Otherwise, if the boys had to go, they went on the side of the road. I’m classy like that. We made it to the Bay Area in 8 hours flat. Mamma wasn’t playin’ around.
It was still light out when we arrived, and the neighborhood I found online, was beautiful. Trees lined the sides of the quaint streets, and geese wobbled along on the sidewalks. I twisted the dial on the radio and waited for our final message.
Oh this has gotta be the good life
This has gotta be the good life
This could really be a good life, good life
Say oh, got this feeling that you can’t fight
Like this city is on fire tonight
This could really be a good life
A good, good life
Talk about a very good sign.