I was missing city life in general and Portland in particular the night I met the biker who loved me for three days. I'd been away from Portland for almost a year and here was a man who'd lived in Oregon and who not only knew the music of Lucinda Williams but was a big fan. I figured the universe had put me on that barstool next to that man to ease my homesickness.
Lucinda was my road sister on that trip from Oregon to Arizona. The six-CD changer held only Lucinda. I knew the words to every song. I wanted to go to Louisiana with her and her brothers and hit all the best bars, drop a quarter into a jukebox to see what it would do, hang out behind a dimly-lit bar just waiting to taste a certain someone's essence.
About six months after the biker's disappearance I ran into him at the bar. He asked if I'd heard of The Wreckers and I said no. "Wait here," he said. He rode home and returned with a copy of "Stand Still and Look Pretty."
If the same taste in music made for happily ever afters, me and that biker, we would've been together for more than three days.
If you haven't heard it, check out Michelle Branch and Jessica Harp doing Only Crazy People Fall In Love With Me. I can relate. Maybe the biker can too.