This one goes to 11

September 7, 2007 - Friday

Sound is such a big part of my memory. It triggers more feelings than any other sense I have.
It could be that I can name songs based on when they were relevant to me. I could make a timeline of my whole life with the Top 40 crap I have had to endure, not to mention the millions of songs I actually love!

Why is it that I can't listen to an easy-listening station without thinking about the dentist? I can literally feel the revolving brush when I hear Paula Cole. *shudder* (Now, I'm not saying I choose to listen to this, but you know...you're in the car with your parents' friends and you're not going to make a crack about their radio station...)

What happened in the year 1991 that I can literally name off lists of songs and artists on the Top 40? Toad the Wet Sprocket? Yuck!! The state of music in the early '90s was so sad, but the optimist in me found a way to rock out to EMF. Now, it's a cheese commercial. What an insult to the cheese.

How about soundtracks to movies? Now there is a trip: you hear a song and it reminds you of a part in a certain movie AND whatever it may trigger in your own life. Then you get it twisted and start to think you were jamming with Spinal Tap while seducing Kate Hudson. Wait...that's not quite right!

The real question isn't how much you can relate to all of this. The real question is: WTF is with those people that don't live and breath for some music? I'm talking about the people who don't have passion for something that makes them move. Come again? How do you get through the day? Jam, man! I can barely handle not singing and dancing with my MP3 player on the bus (for the sake of others' sanity of course); where do you release all that...excess emotion? It makes me wonder.

I like music. I like people who like music. I like people who don't judge me based on the kind of music I jam out to. I like people who make no apologies for what they freak out to. Something sexy about that.