I've said it, and I'll say it again...music really just takes you to the time and place of a thing.
I'm sitting here listening to Stage by Live. All of a sudden I'm 14 years old...hormones and all. Its August, and even in Old Orchard Beach where I've gone with Kelly and her family is uncharacteristically warm. Its maybe a Thursday, but days all melt together. We've been shopping and playing games on the boardwalk all day. We rode the Pirate and decided it must be like being high. We giggled and talked about our stupid teenage girl notions. Then we spent the evening by the ocean, wading out, going for a swim. Finally we finished up the night back at the hotel, in the pool. We slept away the night in that nicely air conditioned hotel room...and the world was perfect with all of its flaws.
Now the Bloodhound gang....oh god the ran another entire time of my life. With Kelly at that concert,...that was the first time we had talked in forever...and her, Tommy, and I were smashed together in the pit at Lupos listening to the base speackers we were being driven into. It was loud, and everyone I'd ever known was there, and it was Jimmy pop...and again...perfection.
Is it right to have so many moments of perfection in one life? Perhaps I take too much for granted. With the help os this music I'm locked back into my memories and the more I look, he more beautiful they are....of course, perhaps thats not true. Nostalgia gets the best of all of us in the end. Because the hurt I used to feel was soul shattering. Yet I know now in retrospect it was also purer...and more real. Everything was. ANd I didn't really know it then. Only the mearest shadow of understanding crossed my mind. I could go on forever. Maybe I will.
I am just sitting here with my eyes closed, listening to this music and typing these things up. I reflect on that, and feel like maybe I'm done making memories...but I don't think so.
Today I had a new memory. And it was just like so many others. Things just repeat themselves ad-nauseum.
Uh oh, new song....ick, this one mostly reminds me of working at McDonalds in that corporate rock kind of way. Train- Meet Virginia... Next up?
See this is why I have to clean out my MP3 collection. Just like the rest of my life it has somehow ended up full of stuff I don't know exactly where I found it, or why its here, but I know for certain I don't want it.
Mr. Crowley though, what a gorgeous keyboard solo. I want to get a new keyboard. And start playing again. I had a certain kind of peace when I played. I just hated performing, but without a teacher I don't have the discipline to learn....and teachers all want fucking recitals.
I should just write a fucking book. Stream of conciousness....actually I can see it now. Diary entires, ver-batim, accented by personal artwork, bits of puzzles, pictures of my cats, and best of all a big chunky cover. Things to catch the attention. Little envelope pockets with silly lettters in them to read and lose. My favorite kind of kidsy propaganda.
Hmmm....the possibilities of my life are endless...it just seems all the things I would want to do are useless. And i'm going to be stuck doing shit I have no talent for or desire to do just to keep my mother happy, and more importantly hold onto this lovely tract of land. I can't imagine living anywhere else. I won't. I think I'd kill myself first.
And speaking of killing myself. Holy shit. Killing off Adriana on the Sopranos tonight....heartbreaking shit. I have to adore HBO for it, because they made me feel my pulse race, and then my heart drop all through the magic of being allowed to follow something through to its inevitable and oh so human end.
But I think I've rambled enough for tonight...or maybe not...this song machine might just inspire me again. Till later!
