My Baby My Darling at Dusk

She & Him: Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward

First track. “Thieves.” It was melancholy, and it was sweet. Bittersweet sometimes. The thought of the follies and pain of inexperience that bring us to take chances with our emotions that almost break us. Words and choices whose effect could have been weighed better. An afternoon with fingers entwined and there would be tickets in an envelope placed carefully in one of our backpacks for a show later on that night. Chasing pigeons and lunch in a small deli in a corner and then dinner afterwards. Look around the wall and Al Pacino used to come here for his favorite sandwich. Then there would be words and choices and no, they cannot be unsaid nor undone.

Then there was the next track, “In The Sun,” which brought back those memories of old high school crushes. Coming off the bus and look around, is that her bus over there and maybe I can catch a chance to smile at her if I wait in that one part of the hallway that she passes by sometimes. Some days I did. Then there were the mornings when I did see her. And she smiled. And there was the pain of a crush that’s not returned but there was also that rush of blood to the cheeks because she smiled and it was sincere and honest. I watched the video for this song later on, watching Deschanel and crew dancing behind an oblivious M. Ward, because how else do you feel inside when a crush passes by and you play it straight until they’ve passed? I hear the opening and I laugh because it makes me want to find a nice girl to skip down a hall with.

Bittersweet. Melancholy. And through the simple sound of Deschanel’s voice and the playful melodies, wonderful as well. Like a salve, you know, succeeding in unifying all of these experiences and their inevitability and saying, perhaps, that it is all ultimately wonderful?