A few days ago I talked about how certain songs have particular — and often irrational — connections to certain places in my mind.  Another one just came to me as my Zen is on random: “1952 Vincent Black Lightning” by Richard Thompson, for some reason, makes me think of an English pub called The White Bear. My brother, his girlfriend, Nellie and I stopped there as we drove north to Scotland, and they had amazing food, a stunning view, great ambience and charm…none of which have anything to do with Richard Thompson or vintage motorcycles.

I have no idea why my brain makes that connection, but hearing the song just puts me back in that seat, eating a huge feast of duck in black cherry sauce, sipping whisky, ducking low ceiling beams, laughing with my family, surrounded by misty English hills as we started our European adventure two years ago.

I am a puzzle wrapped in a mystery inside a music-and-food-associating enigma.

[tags]richard thompson, vincent black lightning, white bear pub[/tags]