a scratch in the groove...
already i am unhappy with what i am doing here. i already feel as if i am trying too hard with these, trying to conform them. that is not what i set out to do here.
so i begin again.
and i am gonna begin with my favorite songs and a brief biography of my relationship with each.
a) tempted - squeeze
the summer of 1994. GHP. k castle, residing across the hall, would use this as my morning wake up call. she'd open her door, check that miss passarello (my roommate) was up already, and then hit 13, with the full knowledge that my favorite song would always get me outta bed, just like those geezers in the folger's coffee commercials. after all, if you're gonna spend your last high school summer locked inside the boundaries of a college campus with a bunch of smart kids and waking up at 8 to go to class every morning, you're gonna need a little something.
b) in my life - beatles
my daddy, the greatest man to ever live, loves the beatles. and he'd be damned if his little girl wasn't gonna love them too. and she does.
she tried to dislike them. as early in my life as i can remember, i would prune up my face when i heard the sound of john or paul's voice coming from the den where dad kept his stereo system. until one day (age 5) i was sitting in my bedroom window sill and i caught it. rather myself. singing. along with "michelle." the charade was up. i loved the beatles.
hard to imagine, i know, but years on i found myself an introverted, horribly self-conscious, fat teenager in a town too small and too backward to hold the slightest bit of my attention. i spent a large part of my adolescence on our porch swing with either my nose in a book or daydreaming with my headphones on.
on this particular evening i was jumping from fm station to fm station, landing more often than one would think on the oldies station. it was the first time i had ever really paid attention to what john was saying in this song... and to the eminant truth of growing up... and without warning, i cried.
nothing spectacular. just that.
c) here i dreamt i was an architect - the decemberists
a recently-acquired love courtesy of a newly-acquired love. one of the first things the russian ever did for me was find me a copy of Castaways and Cutouts. i had seen the decemberists live on a whim of sorts, and i recalled that there was a beautiful song they did that damn near brought me to my knees.
months later, i awoke for one of the first times in his (the russian's) bed, elated to find he was really there, when that very song appeared... as much as a song can.
that will always be my first thought whenever i hear it.
i am 4 months from the day that i will become that russian's wife.
so i begin again.
and i am gonna begin with my favorite songs and a brief biography of my relationship with each.
a) tempted - squeeze
the summer of 1994. GHP. k castle, residing across the hall, would use this as my morning wake up call. she'd open her door, check that miss passarello (my roommate) was up already, and then hit 13, with the full knowledge that my favorite song would always get me outta bed, just like those geezers in the folger's coffee commercials. after all, if you're gonna spend your last high school summer locked inside the boundaries of a college campus with a bunch of smart kids and waking up at 8 to go to class every morning, you're gonna need a little something.
b) in my life - beatles
my daddy, the greatest man to ever live, loves the beatles. and he'd be damned if his little girl wasn't gonna love them too. and she does.
she tried to dislike them. as early in my life as i can remember, i would prune up my face when i heard the sound of john or paul's voice coming from the den where dad kept his stereo system. until one day (age 5) i was sitting in my bedroom window sill and i caught it. rather myself. singing. along with "michelle." the charade was up. i loved the beatles.
hard to imagine, i know, but years on i found myself an introverted, horribly self-conscious, fat teenager in a town too small and too backward to hold the slightest bit of my attention. i spent a large part of my adolescence on our porch swing with either my nose in a book or daydreaming with my headphones on.
on this particular evening i was jumping from fm station to fm station, landing more often than one would think on the oldies station. it was the first time i had ever really paid attention to what john was saying in this song... and to the eminant truth of growing up... and without warning, i cried.
nothing spectacular. just that.
c) here i dreamt i was an architect - the decemberists
a recently-acquired love courtesy of a newly-acquired love. one of the first things the russian ever did for me was find me a copy of Castaways and Cutouts. i had seen the decemberists live on a whim of sorts, and i recalled that there was a beautiful song they did that damn near brought me to my knees.
months later, i awoke for one of the first times in his (the russian's) bed, elated to find he was really there, when that very song appeared... as much as a song can.
that will always be my first thought whenever i hear it.
i am 4 months from the day that i will become that russian's wife.
posted by trixievw at 12:32 PM
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