22 March 2006

Speaking of stupid drivers....and good music

Well, as if by magic, this morning I saw another stupid car message on the way to work. But this one had its own private little satisfaction for me.
The car message said "One little piece of whoop'ass."
By the way, I wasn't aware that was the correct spelling of "whoop'ass."
The thing that was so great about this car, was that it obviously was lying, because the side of the car showed an obvious huge dent from a side-swiping indicent. A bad one. So, I guess the car lost that fight. Not as much whoop'ass as he thought, eh?!
That's what you get for leaving stupid messages on your car.
I only have one message on my car. It is a license plate holder that says the name of The Employer. The only thing I've ever gotten for this is a free travel mug. But it is a lot better than a lesson.
Today amidst the paper and files and numbers at work I have been pondering music. Specifically, I have been pondering the ability that music has to hold memories. For instance, right now, I am listening to this band called "Low." They are from Duluth, MN. Their music is so lulling and mellow and sometimes so slow that you can hear the frequency pulsations in the notes they are playing. And I love that. The memory this CD (Long Division) http://www.chairkickers.com/discography.html holds for me is of my husband's birthday last year (he was born on September 11th, poor boy) when we stayed at the Hotel Donaldson. They had this CD in the room, and we listened to it pretty much the entire time we were there. That is except for the long afternoon spent on the rooftop bar/prairie grass garden.
Really, there is nothing more sublime in late summer than spending an entire day lounging in a chair on a roof in downtown Fargo amidst tall prairie grasses with my beloved and drinking wine.
Pretty much nothing is better than that.
So, this is "Low." Give them a listen.
Other CD's have memories in them, too. Like Sigur Ros' http://www.sigur-ros.co.uk/band/disco/agaetis.php
I am just putting the link b/c there is no hope in spelling it right.
This album is full of the memory of finding out that my grandpa had died, and spending all night in my boyfriend's (how husband's) bed listening to this album and sobbing and sobbing and sobbing. It is extremely cathartic and relaxing and perfect for a release.
My entire college career could be summed up by any and all CD's by The Counting Crows.
Summertime on the farm growing up--that is the Black Crowes album "Shake your Money Maker." The Black Crowes are summertime music as is pretty much anything by the likes of Lynard Skyard or Creedence Clearwater Revival.
No Doubt's album "Return of Saturn" embodies my trip to Romania, oddly enough.
Lionel Richie's music is synonymous with Sunday mornings growing up. For some reason my Dad loved to listen to Lionel Richie and/or the Rocky soundtrack before church.
I could go on for forever. Some music is synonymous with people. Some with events. Some with seasons of life. Some with places. Put a old CD in, and you have an instant walk down memory lane. It is the perfect neumonic device.
If you have any great music memories--chime in!
By the way, speaking of comments, I finally got one. From my husband posing as an imposter (specifically, as a guy we grew with who has an enormous head and who my parents wanted me to marry). I guess he is doing this in the hopes that he can cut himself loose from the idea that he has any responsibility for the insane amounts of coats that he has.
He claims that my story about the coats is extremely exaggerated. I asked him why. He said, "Because they weren't 20 of the same kind of coat."
I replied, "What do you mean--they were the same color and material."
"But they weren't the same.....{smirk}"
"Because they were different lengths by a few inches....?"
At this point, the husband knew he was beaten in this argument. So, do you want to know how he retaliated? He took our poor, little meowcifer kitty who was lounging nicely next to us on the couch and made the cat pretend to hump my back.
Is this the response of a sane individual?
It is the response of a coat addict.


Post a Comment

<< Home