I had my iPod set to Shuffle earlier this week, while I was at work, when a song came on that made my breath catch in my throat. Amazing how a particular song can bring long-buried memories and feelings back to the surface, fresh and sharp. Guilt, sadness, stupidity, insecurity, a sense of something slipping through my fingers… all those feelings came back, as clear as the day I had listened to that song over and over and over in solitude, punishing myself for what I had done and what I had lost.
At work, I paused for three minutes and twenty seconds, listening, remembering, feeling, wishing I didn’t still like that song so damn much.
I think that there is something like that in the movie “High Fidelity”. Aaron and I could name off probably a double cd collection of “How we felt when this song was out” or “When I hear this song I want to…”. That is the enjoyment/curse of music. To this day I can’t get through “Amazing Grace” without tearing up. It was what was played walking into the church at my Grandpa’s funeral.
I could write an entire post like that. “X song makes me think of…” Or, pick a time in my life and list at least one song that I identify with that era.
Smells do that, too. I don’t have as good of a memory for those, though. Maybe it’s that I don’t even notice them until I smell them again later, and even then I’m not sure exactly what it is, but I know what it reminds me of. Or that it’s familiar. Weird.
Anytime I hear anything from Counting Crows’ “August and Everything After” or Gin Blossoms’ “New Miserable Experience”, I die a little.
In the summer of 1994 I worked at the Dragon’s Inn at Cedar Point. Certain nights I would close with this girl named Amber who would always bring her boombox and a dubbed cassette; each respective side carrying the albums I just mentioned. We played both sides at least twice a night and easily 3 times a week for the few months I worked there that summer…and I can’t say I minded.
Anything that reminds me of my summers at Cedar Point bring so much joy and so much pain at the same time. I don’t just remember times working, I also remember the times I came home and hung out with Fries et al. Good times.
K… rambling done!
Music has it’s powers. That why I wanted to be a music therapist. Life changes, but music still helps me cope w/ problems.