Autograph

“Those songs…they just really helped me through some tough times.”

”Oh yeah?”

I looked up from the merchandise table, where I’d put down the vinyl for him to sign.

“It’s a brand new copy, see, cause I’m not gonna play this one.”

He reached over the t-shirts and patches.

“Mmm.”

I noticed that he wrote with his left hand to sign the album, yet I knew he played guitar righty. Just like me.

“Yeah, cause the one I have at home’s all beat up. The cover, that is. I take great care of the record itself.”

He finished writing.

“See, cause I listened to it all the time when I was away. Away from home. And it kept me going – kept me thinking about where I used to be and where I was gonna be.”

He reached over the t-shirts and patches.

“Your lyrics really stuck with me…the music too. I could relate to it all. It all just helped me remember who I was. Who I wanted to be. It filled me up and kept me from drifting away.”

I picked up the autographed album.

“Funny thing though, is that now that I listen to it – now that I’m back – all I can think of is where I was at that time. What I was feeling. You know? I can’t listen to it and not think of everything that was going on there.”

He looked up from the merchandise table, where he’d put down the vinyl he’d signed.

“I’m glad to hear that.”