You're hearing this through my grapevine.

This man came in yesterday wearing a nice grey suit.

Good shoes.

Mid-late 50s.

Looked like an insurance guy.

Maybe an accountant.

He looked much older than his years.

Beat down from decades of doing a mundane job.

He bought some comics (for himself? his kids? grandkids?)

I tried a little small talk....nothing.

Shark eyes.

No twinkle at all.

What is this guys life like?

Nagging wife?

Big mortgage?

Crappy kids?

It is Hell, I assume.

Then a Creedence Clearwater song came on the radio.

I Heard It Through The Grapevine.

His eyes came alive.

Just a little.

His finger tapped his thigh.

I noticed.

ME: "I love Creedence!"

HIM: "Me too! I never hear them anymore."

(I thought...Why not? I hear them every day)

ME: "1970 was a great year. Creedence, comic books..."

HIM: "What's that other song he did...I like that. The baseball one."

ME: "Centerfield."

---

Point of the story?

I have no idea. Creedence perked up a day.