This evening, I was on my way home from picking up a pizza. Minding my own business. As I do.
And then… on my little satellite radio… the sound came pouring through. The key-pounding of the piano… and the unmistakable voice… pitching out a little “Eee, Eee”
Suddenly… I was gone. Gone to the world in front of me…. My mind was turned back in time… to my early childhood. I am not sure which sibling had this album… but… I saw myself put it on the turn table in our living room. Yes, right there on East Bruce Avenue. And then it started playing. That beautiful, beautiful beat. I turned up the volume, because no one was around. I had to be around 8 … I’m guessing.
And by this time, I knew all the words…. as I climbed on top of the coffee table… there in front of the big mirror…in that white-plaster-wall- living room. Hair brush in hand… I sang it like only Stevie Wonder could….
“Everybody’s got a thing
But some don’t know how to handle it
Always reachin’ out in vain
Accepting the things not worth having but
“Don’t you worry ’bout a thing
Don’t you worry ’bout a thing, mama
Cause I’ll be standing on the side
When you check it out “
I had my boogie on. My little scrawny shoulders doing the samba motions… as best they could. Down with it. I was. Don’t you worry ’bout a thing….
And as I sang the last word of that song… with meaning… as I put down my microphone. A job well done. I nailed it. Totally nailed it.
Oh. And. Back now. Sitting… at a stop light at the corner of Maple and Main Streets. I’m not quite sure how I got here…
But I don’t worry ‘bout a thing.
And I like it… when I don’t worry ’bout a single… little…. thing.
Thanks for the wonder, Stevie.