Sour grapes: Never-ending conversation

We sang with the Beatles.

Really.

Well, technically, it was with two of the Beatles.

Let me clarify this. It wasn’t at the same place. Or the same time.

And each time it was from a few 100 feet away.

That works for me.

When a group of college friends gets to be a few decades past from being in college, we can expect that someday, some of us might not be around.

Over the weekend we said goodbye to the second of our college crew with a celebration of life in Sioux City. A lot of friends, memories and music.

Brian Olund’s room was a popular place when we were in Helser Hall at Iowa State. Next to his turntable was a row of records, carefully kept in a vinyl wrapper. We’d browse the collection and occasionally commented on the music, asking what the heck that was.

Years later, we came to appreciate how good that collection was and we became fans of music as diverse as Leonard Cohen and Melanie, Leon Redbone and plenty of solo Michael Nesmith.

I’m sure people in the house scratched their heads walking by and hearing the music. Well, I’m one to talk because I had the John Prine records. These were our antidote to disco.

Music was part of the ongoing conversation we had and are still having.

My send-off contribution at the service was playing a few verses of “Brand-new Key,” by Melanie. Melanie was an artist Olund enjoyed. I was lucky enough to help him see Melanie at one of her last shows.

This was followed by the “Iowa State Fight Song.”

Bike rides, golf and football games brought Brian and wife Pam back to Iowa from their new home in Arizona. Each year brought more of a challenge as Parkinson’s took its toll. It made us appreciate even more our visits and conversations.

The loss of Brian came after the loss of another college friend, Jeff, who also had a long health struggle. I’m sure they’re having an argument as I type this, mainly over driving directions.

It was at one of reunions that we had a political discussion in an Ames bar. It was to the point that we had to raise our hands to say our points before we forgot them. The waitress said she hoped she had friends like us when she became our age.

Well, we are our age. The gains outmeasure the losses. The never-ending conversation continues.