The Low Spark Of Lightning Over Lunch

A look at the songs that have shaped
my life and ended up on my devices.

On a bright day in July, 2010, I'm sitting inside one of my favorite pizza joints in Flagstaff -- Alpine Pizza, when a reminder of the summer monsoon comes rolling in. This is the time of the year you can nearly set your watch by when thunderstorms are forming. It's high noon, and I can see the dark clouds over the mountains dimming the skies around us.

On the jukebox, Traffic's trippy "The Low Spark Of High-Heeled Boys" floats into the air.



It fits my mood perfectly as I munch down my cheese-and-sausage pie -- introspective, drawn-out and melodic. I'm in no particular rush on this day, one day before the Highland Games, exploring downtown Flagstaff and the various shops, chilling out in the mountain air before kilting up tomorrow. I would love it to rain, but the skies don't want to do much. The mountains are getting socked. We're getting what's left over.



As long as the storms don't drown me while I'm driving, I'm fine with it. I know better than to go through high water. I've watched too many people try to do that on the news. It's not really the monsoon until an idiot thinks they can muscle through a wash.

The storm moves off and avoids downtown. We will get no deluge on this day. But it's a lot cooler, a lot less humid, and I'm ready to get back out into the high country once more.