Saturday morning at Starbucks, a song by the great Sam Cooke can be heard over the cacophony.  Reading and writing here reminds me of my visit to a Zoo aviary; voices and objects in constant motion, rising and falling, chattering, calling, etc.  This is life: constant motion.  The words of Sam Cooke came to me, as a life-line in the aftermath of Act One of the Blase-Ford vs Kavanaugh confrontation.

The lyrics are familiar to me as I have heard them since a teenager long ago.  They are a simple reminder that it is possible, feasible, and advisable to consider all that we regard as “useful,” to be a subject, worthy of appropriate respect and care.  Naturally that includes the one of which we have the most constant use, and intimate contact, —oneself.

How easy, how convenient for us to proceed in life on another basis.  What is “of use” is disposable, meant to be used-up, used and forgotten,–an object.  This approach is devastating.  Others become objects,  as inanimate things, and “life is a play….. signifying nothing.”  Such raw instrumentalism inevitably includes the user too, the one-who-uses.

A teenage Brett Kavanaugh thought he was done with the female at the party,—that she would recede in the rear view mirror of his life.

These thoughts came to mind as I read this morning and overheard the lyrics to the Sam Cooke tune.  I believe that you will understand.

After the you tube video I have included a description of the recording session of this great song.  (Thank you Wikipedia) Enjoy!

I even like the graphic of this video. Is not life a flowing stream, always moving…..

“Bring It on Home to Me”, like its A-side, “Having a Party”, was written while Cooke was on tour for Henry Wynn. The song was initially offered to fellow singer Dee Clark, who turned it down. While in Atlanta, Cooke called co-producer Luigi Creatore and pitched both numbers; he was sold and booked an immediate recording session in Los Angeles scheduled for two weeks later. The session’s mood “matched the title” of the song, according to biographer Peter Guralnick, as many friends had been invited. “It was a very happy session,” recalled engineer Al Schmitt. “Everybody was just having a ball. We were getting people out there [on the floor], and some of the outtakes were hilarious, there was so much ad lib that went on.” René Hall assembled an eighteen-piece backing group, “composed of six violins, two violas, two cellos, and a sax, plus a seven-piece rhythm section that included two percussionists, two bassists, two guitars, and a piano.”

–Wikipedia