Soundtracks - Isn't Life Strange

I'm jumping ahead in my soundtracks here, but this seems to be the appropriate song for this moment in time.

I need to say that not every song of my soundtracks is a song i love, or that I'd want on my ipod, and this song really qualifies as one of those. The Moody Blues did some really great songs, but this one from Seventh Sojourn isn't especially well sung or played, and its kind of a syrupy mess . . . but it transports me to a time and place every time I hear it.

In high school, I turned out to be more of an artist type than a jock. Not that I didn't have the physical ability or skills (I was an all-star shortstop in my Babe Ruth league), but I just got involved in artistic types of pursuits. I had a good friend, Nancy who was dating a wrestler with whom I also became friends. Our wrestling team had its own set of cheerleaders called the Wrestlerettes and Nancy was one of them, so I also got to know, superficially, the other Wrestlerettes. One of them was a girl named Marilynn Martin, or Marti for short. A really nice girl who really didn't come across as "stuck-up" or snobbish. She and I had a couple conversations, though nothing ever in depth.

After graduation, Marti became engaged to her high school boyfriend, a guy named Gary, from the wrestling team. I do not know any of the details, but late one night as Gary was driving her home, they had a car accident and Marti was killed.

The death of someone I hardly knew at the age of 19 hit me harder than I can explain. Perhaps it was the moment when I realized I was mortal or that life was really fragile, but I can remember going to the viewing and seeing this beautiful young woman lying in a casket and feeling a strange and surreal emptyness, like the fabric of my own life had been rent and things would not ever be the same.

This song by the Moody Blues played in my head as I drove from the funeral home, and it reminds me of Marti everytime I hear it.

But as I reach this stage of my life, I begin to think about the people I know now, and how we NEVER know whether we'll see them again when they drive away. So when I hear this song, I think how each and every one of our departures from this life will be surrounded with tears and saddness, but that life will go on.

I grieve for those friends and love ones facing their mortality or the mortality of ones they love, but I hope to remember this . . . that there will be time for tears and saddness, for now I want to revel in my life, and those I love. And I will go home tonight and kiss my wife and think about how wonderful life is that she is here with me, and I will not worry about tomorrow, because it will come and go no matter what I do. For David and Tricia, I send my prayers and my sincere hope that they have many, many more moments to share . . . and who really knows, because Isn't Life Strange?

Isn’t life strange
A turn of the page
Can read like before
Can we ask for more?
Each day passes by
How hard man will try?
The sea will not wait
You know it makes me want to cry, cry, cry -

Wished I could be in your heart
To be one with your love
Wished I could be in your eyes
Looking back there you were,
and here we are. . .

Soundtracks of my life, Song 2

As I began looking for songs that took me back to points in my life, I discovered an interesting thing. A lot of the earliest songs I can remember that I'd want to put on this list are from 1967. I thought about that for a little bit, and I realized that while I did listen to some music before that, it was really bubble gum stuff. I suppose at that time in my life, my tastes started to change, and music was more than just sounds. While I may add some of the songs prior to 1967 at some point, it is really the music from that point on that fits the idea of life soundtracks, at least for me.

What I realize in looking back is that music did not play an important role in my life prior to 1967. The significance of that fact does play a role in where songs fit into my life, anyway . . .

This next song is one that made me realize that. I spoke earlier of how the idea of girls started to change for me about this time. After that first school crush of Amy McLean, there was another girl, Beth Fuller. Beth and I shared classes, so I actually had the opportunity to talk to her, a definite benefit when try to actually "make the moves."

One of the social skills that I never really mastered was small talk, chitchat, whatever you call it when you are trying to sound interesting to another person, usually of the opposite sex. One of Beth and my early conversations concerned popular culture, i.e., what music you listened to. Not wanting to sound like a complete dork and say The Monkees (whom my sister had already informed me were not really a music group but a bubble gum concoction made up by TV), I struggled to think of a less "fad" kind of group. As I said earlier, music really wasn’t that important in my life to that point so I blurted out the first name that popped into my head, The Strawberry Alarm Clock.

In an early lesson about why you should not try to be extemporaneous without knowing at least a little bit about what you are talking about, I was then thrust into the following conversation.




Strawberry Alarm Clock. Do you like Incense and Peppermints?

What?

Incense and Peppermints

I . . . uh . . . have never heard of them.

It's not a them, it's a song. . by The Strawberry Alarm Clock.

Oh . . . yeah . . . what was I thinking. No, I really like their other stuff better.

Oh, you do? Like what?

Uh, I can't really think of the names right now, my minds drawing a blank. Uh . . . What about you?


Now a quick Google of The Strawberry Alarm Clock will show that they had one (count 'em) one Number One song, that being Incense and Peppermints. They did put out a couple of albums, but their next closest hit was a song called Tomorrow that made it to Number 23. Needless to say, I HAD NEVER HEARD IT.

So, I was caught, . . . bullshitting some girl I was trying to impress with my worldliness . . . at age 13. You'd think I would have learned my lesson right then. But like the dog I could always prove myself to be, this was just the first of several foot-in-mouth events of my life. Thankfully I survived, and I NEVER EXAGGERATE ANYMORE!!! Really . . . you don't believe me?

Anyway, here is the song that always reminds me of that conversation.

Oh . . . and as for Beth . . . well I overcame that little obstacle and she did become my first official girlfriend, thus teaching me the counter-lesson that bullshit did not ALWAYS walk.

One final note. This song is really a GREAT example of music from the psychedelic era, oh around 1967 to 1969, even if the band was pretty much a one hit wonder. This song is like, really far out man. Oh wow, don't laugh like that . . . you're freaking me out.

Off the mark . . .

Those who know me may be surprised at this statement . . . I always liked Dick Cheney.

I first saw him giving news briefings during the Desert Storm Campaign. Now, I did not like the fact that we had gone to war, but at that time saw it as a necessary evil. While I do not think that the senior President Bush always made good foreign policy decisions, I accepted that invading Kuwait was the proper action at the time.

And as Secretary of Defense, I thought Dick Cheney had the proper image and portrayed a strong, competent image of that invasion. Interestingly enough, what I liked most about him was that he stood in front of the press and answered questions. He never seemed to dodge the hardballs. I accepted that his political philosophy did not mesh with mine, but saw him as the right man for the job.

Similarly during the recent campaign, I saw Dick Cheney as the strongest candidate. I remember remarking to my wife that I wished Cheney were running for President instead of Bush. Not that I liked what he stood for, but that you knew what you had with Cheney . . . he pretty much told you what was on his mind and didn't feel the need to apologize for it.

I have now come to the decision that what we have here is a glowing example of the "Peter Principle" at work. Perhaps Mr. Cheney has risen to a level that is beyond his capabilities.

I feel bad for him. Shooting another human being accidentally must be a terrible thing, and I will not criticize him for that. God knows we all have done things that we regret and when we stand up and take responsibility, we show a quality that makes us honorable, even at our lowest ebb.

If only he had.

In the days after the news was announced, I was surprised when I heard that the Cheney had called Whittington and expressed his support. That was the way it was described, "expressed his support." Maybe it's just me, but I think the report should have had Cheney expressing an apology.

Small detail? I don't believe so. Initially the Vice President's aides floated the balloon that perhaps the victim was culpable.

Former Cheney aide Mary Matalin was the first to test that strategy Sunday when she told reporters that the vice president “didn't do anything he wasn't supposed to do.”

Other than shoot his friend, of course.
San Diego Union Tribune

Then, he basically stoned walled the press until the 15th, finally succumbing to the pressure when he granted an interview to Fox News where he accepted accountability. Good, excellent . . . had this been done immediately, and at a press conference with all news media outlets. This was not the time to manage the press. Standup, take your lumps, be honorable. This is not a policy matter, or a difference of opinion. You SHOT someone. Say you're sorry. Be a human being. Dammit, say it even if you don't mean it, force yourself to do the right thing. Answer the hard questions!!

What I liked about Cheney in Desert Storm was that he faced the bright lights and spoke his mind. Here, he hid behind his office until forced to come clean.

This of course, is not just about Cheney. But what supporters of the Vice President miss about all this is that his handling of this matter has damaged the entire administration, giving further fuel to the argument that they do whatever they want, that they, somehow, are above the responsibility of the rest of us mere citizens. If someone on my staff were this disloyal, I'd need to see the back of them. That is very unlikely to happen here.

Unfortunately, that is a symptom of the same arrogance.

Happy St. Val . . .

Ah, February 14th! Happy Valentine's Day to all my friends and loved ones, especially my beautiful wife.

Does anyone else remember being in Grade School and getting those boxes of Valentine's cards that came wrapped 20 to a box, all with puppies and ducks and other little furry creatures? You'd spill them out on the kitchen table and agonize over who got the best cards.

It was fun . . . sort of. I remember one year somebody sent one little girl a skunk card. I never saw the offending card, and I don't know if it said something rude, or whether the printer of those cards just thought that skunks were cute furry creatures and never gave it another thought. I DO remember it raised quite a stink with the teacher, and that an investigation ensued. If the culprit was ever found, it was all settled behind closed doors, and subsequent years included a warning issued pre-February 14 about mean cards not being tolerated.

I do still like the holiday, even if Hallmark invented it (an unsubstantiated rumor, I suppose) but now I don't get to buy those fun packs of cards any more. I like the chocolate, I guess, and roses are pretty on the dining room table. But I really like that we set aside a day that is all about telling those we love that . . . well . . . we love them. That's actually pretty cool, that we have a love day.

Maybe we should have a peace day too, where we can send little notes to all those people we don't deal well with, telling them that no matter what, today of all days we are not going to fight with you about anything. Nothing. Nada.

If it worked, we could expand it to a week . . ..

Kind of a postscript . . . I just heard one of the women at work say that she hadn't gotten her husband a card yet. Another woman told her that she could stop after work and get one, that she had time. I wondered if she were to forget, would her husband freak out on her for forgetting Valentine's Day. I discussed this with another co-worker and we decided that he probably wouldn't, that in the back of his mind he'd figure . . . "Cool, now I have a card credit . . . in case I forget one someday." But we also decided that there is a statute of limitations on that credit, so our profound judgment to any man out there whose significant other forgets to get them a card today . . . be understanding, but be vigilant. Safer to remember the card days than foolishly pin your hope of amnesty on some stupid idea like a card credit.

Only a man would even come up with that idea!

Early, very early soundtracks

Okay, I think I am ready to experiment.

AS I mentioned in my previous post, there are songs that just transport me back to moments in time. For some, like this one, I don't actually remember liking the song so much at the time, rather when I hear it now I think about a particular time in my life.

One of the convenient little facts of my life is that I entered elementary school in 1960. What's convenient about that is that I can immediately tell what grade I was in when talking about any particular year. So when the Hollies released this single I was in 7th or 8th grade, and would have been 11 years old. (I was 5 when I entered first grade, the result of a late December birthday.)

On A Carousel speaks to me of the awakening of puberty, that time when girls turned from odd creatures that trotted around the playground pretending to be horses to odd creatures that seemed to affect your internal chemistry when they walked by. One of my first crushes was on this cute little blonde girl named Amy McClean. She was in 7A and I was in 7C, so we had a combined homeroom together. But I was very shy, and I don't think I ever spoke to her without coming away from the conversation feeling like I had proven my innermost fears of being a dork.

I never did get to first base with Amy, but despite feeling so awkward, I smile when I think of it even now. I mean, I WAS a dork!! And what I realize now is that was okay. She was very possibly out of my league at the time, but I grew up to realize that didn't need to be a permanent situasion. Years later, after I had matured a bit, I could have pursued that first crush but had moved on to different crushes, different insecurities.

This song takes me back to a time when every word seemed critical, where every clothes choice seemed monumental and yet every day seemed brimming with possibilities.

Life's Soundtrack

I was driving to work yesterday, when I accidentially hit the CD button on the car stereo while trying to switch radio stations. Normally, that wouldn't do anything, but on my recent trip south, I had found an old Bruce Springsteen compilation I had made a few years ago. This particular compilation was mostly acoustic stuff I had garnered from my vast collection of bootlegs, and it began with an almost dirge-like version of Thunder Road. Instead of switching back over to the news, I eased back into the seat and let the music play.

I did not listen to Bruce Springsteen at that time in my life when I could have seen him before stardom, when he repeatedly played small venues like the Main Point or The Tower near Philly. So his songs really never were part of the soundtrack of my youth, as was , oh say . . . Jethro Tull. But as I listened yesterday morning, speeding along into the dark, lyrics touched and prodded almost ancient feelings that consumed me back then, back when I felt completely alone, that it almost felt like I HAD listened to those songs back then. Almost like they had been written about my feelings. And I really can't explain what feelings that they touch, but it made me think of the many songs I listened to that had that quality, that power to allow you to make that song YOUR song. And how even today when I hear them I can be transported back to a moment in time and relive that moment so vividly that I can even feel the temperature, and see the condensation roll down the car windows.

Interestingly, today I read an interview with Bruce by Nick Hornby, and they both touched on the subject;

NH: Does it feel like young man's music to you now, the first three, four records?

BS: I would say that it is, you know, because a lot of young people actually mention those records to me. . . . a lot of the music was about a loss of innocence, there's innocence contained in you but there's also innocence in the process of being lost. And that was the country at the time I wrote that music . . . immediately preceding the end of the Vietnam war. . . . We were a funny amalgam of things at that moment. There was so much familiarity in the music that for a lot of people it felt like home; it touched either your real memories or just your imaginary home, the place that you think of when you think of your home town, or who you were, or who you might have been. . . . And yet at the same time we were in the process of moving some place else, and that was acknowledged in my music also . . . That's why 'Born to Run' resonates and 'Thunder Road'; people took that music and they really made it theirs. I think I worked hard for that to happen . . . It's the motive when you go out there. You want that reaction: 'Hey, I know that kid. That's me!'. Because I still remember that my needs were very great, and they were addressed by things that people at the time thought were trash, popular music and B-movies . . . But I found a real self in them that helped me make sense of the self that I grew up with - the person I actually was . . .



Music has an incredible power in our lives, and I guess I believe it has it's most influence when we are young, when we are trying to discover who we are. We often take the words to popular music almost as the words of prophets, and we can hear in those songs the same questions that burn in our souls, and hope somehow that they will also help us with the answers.

So I've decided on a new thread for this blog, my life's soundtrack. These will be songs that I'd use as an overlay of the movie of my life, but they will also be the songs that helped me through those hardest moments of my youth. Hopefully I can relay those stories along with the songs, and if possible I'd like to figure out how to include the links to the songs.

I think this will be an interesting journey . . . hopefully you'll agree.

And I'll gladly acknowledge anyone with a solution to the link issue.

Okay, while I'm sharing . . .

I'm not really a big video game freak. Okay . . . that's not true. I was totally hooked on Tomb Raider and Doom a couple years back. But I haven't played anything recently.

Well . . . that's mostly because I don't own a console. I'd probably wile away hours and hours playing stuff like Halo, had I ever plunked down the bucks on a PS2 or an Xbox. But I didn't, and I have to get some credit for that, I think. I am, after all, really still a boy at heart.

And I am having trouble getting over the whole "Microsoft is the evil empire" thingy as well. I bought my first Mac in 1984, and I guess for as long as there are Mac's I'll be a little anti-Windows.

But besides that, I came across this XBox 360 commerical that never made it to TV, and its kind of a hoot. So I thought I'd share.

Tiki Bar . . . Or Get It While It's Still Hot

It has happened several times in my life, that I have been around to see the beginning of something, to see it before it became too polished, too slick.

Rock and Roll in the Buddy Holly era, for example. Okay, I didn't listen to Buddy Holly, but technically I could have.

Television in the 1950's is another great example. Later examples might be music video's and MTV in the 80's, or even the World Wide Web of the mid 90's. These were all times when the people that were the true pioneers didn't have a model to follow, they simply tried stuff. Some worked, and some didn't, but the raw, untested nature of it was exciting to watch, and was as interesting as it would ever be.

This brings me to podcasting, where you download little audio programs that you can listen to on your ipod. It's like Tivo only portable.

Yesterday, I was on the iTunes site downloading The Onion podcast, when I noticed this video podcast called Tiki Bar TV, and the comments people made about it. Turns out it's a very popular program that is one of the top downloads. So I checked them out, and so enjoyed this nutty, campy, hilarious bit of video, that I spent all of last evening watching the rest of their twelve episodes.


A bit of warning here, this is not your children's podcast. There is sexual innuendo, salty language, and over indulgence in alcohol. But it is funny stuff. And as I watched this low budget, high talent little adventure, I realized I was seeing yet another media in its infancy. People can still do this stuff in their basements and get national exposure, and compete on an even footing with the largest of media outlets.

I don't think that we can say that for long, so check it out. You don't need a video iPod, you can watch them using iTunes on your computer (a free download) or just go to the Tiki Bar TV website.