Coco Heart

My Grandpa once heard a song on the radio that he loved. But the DJ didn't give the artist and song title, so my grandpa didn't know what the song was. He called up my father, described the song, and asked if he knew it. My father didn't. He called The Wherehouse (R.I.P.), and sang the part of the song he remembered. This is what that patient employee heard, in the voice of a Czechoslovakian immigrant...

"Co-co heart..."

This must have gone on for a few months, my grandfather asking us grandkids and anyone he came in contact with what this damn song was. Finally, the song came on while he was in the car with my dad. My Dad recognized the song as...

drumroll...

"Sacrifice" by Elton John. The lyric he mixed up was:

Cold, cold heart

Holy smokes! (as my grandfather would say), was he ever excited to have found his song! My Dad bought him the album, and then recorded "Sacrifice," over and over, on both sides of a tape. (Incidentally, this tape was in the glovebox of his car when he signed the title over to me. I keep it there. I like it there.) My grandpa loved to play this tape and listen to this song, his song, over and over.

Okay, so this is a long-winded route to a comparison. But the comparison I want to make is that, like my grandfather, there is something I once enjoyed but can no longer recall. Last month, I came across an online literary journal where submissions were made via a video of the author reading the work in a locale that's significant to the story/poem. It was so good, dammit! But I don't remember its title. I had thought I'd come across it in HTML Giant, but a search of their blog has been fruitless. Although I did find some awesomely-bad Photoshop work.

I swear, if I can find this audio-file-journal again, I will bookmark it, both in my long-term memory and computer memory. And maybe I'll dub my favorite audio file of theirs, over and over, on a tape.