The idiota on the colina

And now for some Sergio Mendes-meets-The Beatles with "The Fool on the Hill."

Again, there are perhaps no deeper meanings in why I love this song and much of Sergio Mendes's early records, at least the ones that were available in the US. Maybe we should just blame it on (or credit it to) the bossa nova, '60s Latin exotica, beautiful voices, expert jazz musicianship, nostalgia, and, sure, my neighbor Suzy sharing her bossa nova records with my family all those years ago.

And perhaps that's the most significant thing this record and this sound represent, the opening of my little American mind (at the ripe age of 3 or 4 or so) to the world around me, a point of view that I've always tried to embrace as much as money, time, and opportunity would allow.

A case in point: At various times so far this year, I had already hoped to visit Mexico City, North Carolina, Montreal, Senegal, and either South Africa or Argentina. I even applied for a job in Egypt earlier in the year and actually had a video conference interview with the search committee. Imagine little ol' me from North Cackalacky swanning about with the Pharoahs!

How dare this little bastard virus disrupt our lives so thoroughly? I'm throwing down the gauntlet and setting a post-COVID 19 goal: To keep traveling, to travel even more, once (and here's hoping it does) life returns to normal.

Yes, I will embrace my role as the fool on the hill, the fool on the veld, the fool on the pampas, the fool on the desert plain, in all its various meanings.