I impress the tattoo’d barista every time I enter Hula Girl and talk about the music playing overhead. It is just coincidence that she often plays songs that I know details about which are new to her. Today it was We’ll Meet Again when I walked and I said do you know about this song and she started to look it up on her device but I interrupted, “this was the song English people in World War Two felt particularly close to, in a mystical way, like as if they might die between hearing versions of it, especially the British soldiers.” Some would return me a nonplussed expression but not her. Each time she seems riveted or else well read in barrista manuals like, “facial expressions to insure better tips.” Life is always a challenge between whether someone is what you think or conning you. Life itself is a con, you’re born to die, yet wired up to enjoy living all the while knowing it ends at any second. What does it mean when people are surprised about death or complain about it. What better con then setting up people to believe they are entitled to life which had nothing to do with them except that they find themselves existing. It’s Vera Lynn and she died last summer, I knew it was her version before tattoo’d woman finished looking it up. I do know first hand that songs have mystical power, like Bogart telling Sam to play it again, like the guy on Youtube who listens to songs people suggest and slowly explodes when hearing Come Together for the first time or the woman I taught in the Beaches that weeped as she became comfortable (or maybe empowered) by improvising. Of course she might have been thinking I’ll offer discounts if she gets emotional and Youtube guy might be playing the part of someone blown away because he gets more likes and subscriptions. At least I have a little satisfaction knowing Humphrey Bogart was for real.