The music, the memories

Another blog asked commenters to write about their best and worst memories that had a distinct soundtrack. Here are a few of mine.

Best: I bought the greatest hits of Styx on a lark when I was first hanging around with Sweetie. I put it on in the car and was singing along to "Mr. Roboto." I laughed until I cried and almost had to pull over. I loved that I felt so comfortable with him that I could explore the full extent of my goofballery, even though I didn't know him that well yet. Over the years I'm sure I've exposed myself as the true goofball I am, but that day stands out as fun.

Riding home from Leif's house on my bike, drunk, taking the alleys so we wouldn't be noticed, but then singing the end of They Might Be Giants' "Apollo 18" album (the multiple tracks that go "Please pass the milk, please... fingertips!...I hear the wind blow...") at the top of our lungs. I felt young and free and happy.

Driving in the car with Monkeygirl with the B-52s on ("Love Shack") and just losing it... singing at the top of my lungs, bouncing around until the car shook, being young...

The barbecue at senior skip day, when Deb Schlim put on Jane's Addiction's "Ritual de lo Habitual" and the song "Been Caught Stealing" came on, and she and I were the only ones who knew it, but it was so vital and so perfect, the dogs barking on a beautiful summer day.

Worst and worst-ish:

Freshman year: Tom Metcalf was trying to feel me up and I was trying to not let him for the entire length of "I want you (she's so heavy)" by the Beatles, and that is a LONG song.

On the way to the reception after my grandfather's funeral, I heard Pearl Jam's "Last Kiss." I cried like a baby, and then hated that such a sappy song made me cry, and forever after I can't hear that song without thinking about my grandfather's death.

When I hear Temple of the Dog's "Hunger Strike" or STP's "Conversations Kill" I think of my friend Tony, who liked to imitate the singers' deep voices behind the scenes in the auditorium during drama class. I can still see him belting them out. So they're happy memories, but Tony's been dead for more than a decade.

At Tony's funeral, a pallid woman in a pale pink dress sang "Wind Beneath My Wings," and that song was SO inappropriate to who Tony was, to his big personality (if midget-like physique), that I laughed loud and long, and my friend Stacey, horrified, tried to bury me in her lap and cover me with her arms and soon it didn't matter because I was crying anyway.

Not best or worst, just notable:

I remember hearing Elvis's "Hound Dog" in my uncle's Vanagon with the rusted-out bottom on the way to golf with my dad and uncles at about 5 am one Sunday morning.

I was at the fair on the flying bobs and the carnie was yelling "do you want to go FASTER?" and the song was "Welcome to the Jungle."

We were on the way home from Boompah's father's funeral, and as usual, he'd shown no emotion all day. But in the car we were listening to Joni Mitchell, and the song "River" came on, and he said "This song is so sad." I thought that was about as close as we might get to hearing how sad he was.

G3 used to listen to Tori Amos' "Little Earthquakes" over and over in about 1992, and I remember walking into his green living room and hearing it on, again, and thinking, "Oh, for god's sake."

My mom loves Sublime. I remember talking to her about "Caress Me Down," which is dirty enough in the English parts, but there's a long section in Spanish, and I asked Mom (who speaks a little Spanish, poquito) what they were saying. She said "I can make out just enough of it to know that I don't want to know the rest."

I could go on for days, and it's still interesting to me, but it's probably getting boging for you, so I'm out. Take care,
-CM