Chapter 132 In memory, the grass is evergreen

Listen to "The Brothers Four" in concert. Exhibition Hall No. 3 is very large, full of tens of thousands of people; the singers are old, maybe they were so old at the beginning.At that time, I was fifteen or sixteen years old, and Hong Kong was still in winter. I went to night school and passed Nanchang Street after class. The lights were dim, and there were few people and cars. Where have all the soldiers gone? Gone to grave-yards every one... In the cold wind, singing came from the shop. Late at night, only that record store and two or three porridge and noodle shops were open.

In those days, there was no record player at home, so I asked the shop owner to record vinyl records on tapes. section solo. It seems that everything has been forgotten, only those gentle melodies are still remembered. When I was fifteen or sixteen years old, four brothers may have been like this; all four of them are still alive; the songs are also old, and the old songs have become mellow; peaceful and quiet, still telling the absurdity and desolation of war; This is one of the "American spirits" that I rarely agree with; if it is against the war, it can be regarded as the American spirit.

Four brothers, with a brotherhood of more than 40 years, when they came to the stage, the "elder" who played the cello briefly described their names and backgrounds; if you want to know more, the "show book" advertises an irrelevant restaurant Offer all-inclusive suckling pig dinner. The audience is a little older, and they are all restrained. It is rare that there is no fluorescent stick floating in the singing. In 1960, the four brothers began to sing; in 1960, I was not born yet; I heard that in the White House, they sang for the four presidents, experienced changes, and touched thousands of people.

Try to remember the kind of September when grass was green and grain was yellow. Try to remember... Try to remember, remember, always more intoxicating than reality.