When I first saw the two teenage girls sitting on a stone bench in the town centre attempting to play a harmonica, I struggled to accept it as a real event. Something in my brain registered the immediate experience as too incongruent to be trustworthy. Every little detail smacked of ‘not really happening’… the perfectly curated teenage aesthetic of black shiny puffer jackets and false eyelashes, mixed as it was with the unmistakably rich and earthy sound of the harmonica, created a moment that punctured reality.
It didn’t take long (perhaps a thousandth of a second) for my brain to quickly ready me for the inevitable giggle after the note had played itself through. I was waiting for the expected, understandable laughter that proclaimed, Look what we found! Isn’t this a silly old thing, and aren’t we funny for playing it out loud?!
But the giggles didn’t come, and so another thousandth of a second later, my brain had to adjust again when I heard the girl with the instrument announce:
“Ah, I think I’m jumping straight to seven instead of six.” To which her friend looked keenly interested. The harmonica was an earnest adventure, not the frivolous archaic punchline I had assumed. That showed me.
The moment was complete, and I had already walked on past and down towards Greggs, where I planned on buying a sausage roll. The whole thing, from hearing the harmonica to integrating the wonderful occurrence into the never-ending story of life, probably lasted five seconds.
I knew I wanted to write it down here as I strolled on towards Greggs. It ties in nicely with how things seem to be shaping up across the board. Long story short… are things incongruent? No. And shame on you for thinking otherwise, silly goose!
MT 