Stopping in to Harris Teeter after my Saturday meeting has become part of my weekly routine. In recent months the store has been playing this Cranberries song every single time. I swear.
I never really listened to the Cranberries that much, their heyday was during my early sobriety when I was away from music and they were too poppy for someone as music snobby as me, so I didn't really know this song till it was featured in the soundtrack of Derry Girls. It's a sweet and lovely song and maybe the best showcase* of Dolores O'Riordan's soaring vocal exploits.
O'Riordan said the song was about young love and it sounds like it, but that opening line, "Oh my life, changes every day, every possible way," resonates on other vectors. As the seasons change and we go back to empty nesting a trip to the grocery store immediately brings up the problem of needing to be mindful in the purchasing of bread, lest we end up with too much and have to throw it in the freezer.
Abstracting up a level, it makes me think that maybe this is why Mary's dad George Sr was always focused on not having too much food when guests came over, lest it spoil, whereas when we were younger I was always focused on being sure we had too much, on the principle that the only way you could be sure you had enough food when hosting was to have too much.
Again, I am struck by the mild melancholy of September encroaching, offset by the comfort of knowing that the holidays are for all intents and purposes next week.
*Just went back and listened to "Zombie." I retract this claim.
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