So I was thinking...
Yesterday I had a microscopic work crisis that required my sprinting out a couple of hours by car to deliver some papers in person. Being the clevah boy I am, I had one of those cassette adapters (keep in mind my fleet of cars is ancient) and I plugged in my MP3 list and went away on down the road.
Now, y'see, since there has been something of an 80s thing going on of late (courtesy of the lovely and gracious H&B and Stomper) I was merrily listening to the same stuff I was 20something years ago. Which was good. Here's what happens, though, when you have a couple of uninterrupted hours each way on an emptyish stretch of interstate highway. You start to think.
The seed had been planted ovah at Badger's and I noticed that, dammit, just about every third song reminded me of some ex or another. When you're happily married (as TFBIM has demanded me to be) you don't really call to mind all those times you were 22 (or 21, or 24) and miserable that It Didn't Work Out But We Can Still Be Friends (IDWOBWCSBF).
That said, it could have been worse. In my youth (Father William replied to his son) I once had a double date that went over a cliff in flaming splinters when my friend Z's date was delayed, it turns out, because she was overlong in her car. Weeping. Something she did a lot of, apparently. Not that anyone could (or would) give me a cogent reason why this might be such a desirable hobby in which to engage...but there you are.
Some songs remind me of IDWOBWCSBF, not because of anything more complicated than said song would simply NOT GET OFF THE RADIO at the time. Slap on another 25 years and all I can think about when I hear "Canary In A Coalmine" is the girl who eventually became a [cough] "telephone actress" even though she was quite prim and proper way back when.
The good thing about looking back at being young and miserable when you are almost middle-aged and happy (I was going to type "smug" but in my case, hubris breeds nemesis, so I desisted) is that when a song, say (The Politics of Dancing by Re-Flex) is over you forget about Idiot X and you bounce along merrily until four songs later when you hear another (oh, for example Dancing In Berlin by Berlin) and your mind glides back to Idiot Y, and so the long day wears on.
And.
Next thing you know, you're back home.
-J.
Now, y'see, since there has been something of an 80s thing going on of late (courtesy of the lovely and gracious H&B and Stomper) I was merrily listening to the same stuff I was 20something years ago. Which was good. Here's what happens, though, when you have a couple of uninterrupted hours each way on an emptyish stretch of interstate highway. You start to think.
The seed had been planted ovah at Badger's and I noticed that, dammit, just about every third song reminded me of some ex or another. When you're happily married (as TFBIM has demanded me to be) you don't really call to mind all those times you were 22 (or 21, or 24) and miserable that It Didn't Work Out But We Can Still Be Friends (IDWOBWCSBF).
That said, it could have been worse. In my youth (Father William replied to his son) I once had a double date that went over a cliff in flaming splinters when my friend Z's date was delayed, it turns out, because she was overlong in her car. Weeping. Something she did a lot of, apparently. Not that anyone could (or would) give me a cogent reason why this might be such a desirable hobby in which to engage...but there you are.
Some songs remind me of IDWOBWCSBF, not because of anything more complicated than said song would simply NOT GET OFF THE RADIO at the time. Slap on another 25 years and all I can think about when I hear "Canary In A Coalmine" is the girl who eventually became a [cough] "telephone actress" even though she was quite prim and proper way back when.
The good thing about looking back at being young and miserable when you are almost middle-aged and happy (I was going to type "smug" but in my case, hubris breeds nemesis, so I desisted) is that when a song, say (The Politics of Dancing by Re-Flex) is over you forget about Idiot X and you bounce along merrily until four songs later when you hear another (oh, for example Dancing In Berlin by Berlin) and your mind glides back to Idiot Y, and so the long day wears on.
And.
Next thing you know, you're back home.
-J.
Comments
I'd end up driving over a cliff, for sure.
That said, I happen to love (and miss) 80s music. Having been, musically, one of THOSE kids, my MixWits -- blame the lovely and gracious H&B, she got me started -- tend towards the obscure; at least in the USA. My Oz/Britpals might roll their collective eyes at Howard Jones or Nick Heyward or The Divinyls* or Big Audio Dynamite.
Now, all things considered, I tend to look back with fondness at the 80s and the music therefrom. 90% of the songs that do remind me of someone don't do so in any painful way. To be honest, the feeling I get when thinking back is relief.
"Thank you Guardian Angel, for not letting me get married to HER."
Now you know.
-J.
* Bec, I did NOT have a crush on Chrissy Amphlett.
OMG teh memories!!!
(I dug out my INXS tapes for the car after Badger's post last week)
But it was played a lot in the eighties!
M - The Runt! I remember that song! That and all his Utopia stuff.
Wow. I have to save some of these memory whiplashes for my birthday.
-J.