Songs that transport me

The reason I started thinking about this has to do with my previous post about quitting my job. I was about to leave the house to drive to work and do this very profound thing, and I wanted to listen to some music so I wouldn't be so nervous. For some reason, I remembered what CD I was listening to the day I had my interview 10 years ago (Eric Johnson - Venus Isle), so I thought it would be fitting to listen to the same thing as I drove over to end my time there. It really had an effect on me to realize how much my life has changed in the past 10 years. But I also realized that music is my catalyst for memories. Some people remember what they were wearing at key moments in their lives; I remember what was on the radio.

I think I drive people crazy when we go to restaurants because I can't tune out the piped in mix of music in the background. I always stop in the middle of someone's conversation and say, "good song!" I actually wondered at one point if there was some type of career in making mixes for different restaurants to set the mood. I think I would be REALLY good at this, but I have yet to find out how to get into this very small niche.

I guess I just think music is very important, and can trigger so many different emotional responses. When I have been going through very tough times, I have a tendency to stop listening to music because it makes me very emotional. I remember when our dog Spencer finally succumbed to cancer, there was a Phil Collins song from the Disney Tarzan movie that was playing alot, and I couldn't listen to that song without thinking about Spencer and tearing up. In fact, I still can't.

When I discovered the Buena Vista Social Club outstanding CD of traditional Cuban music, I remember listening to it all the way through for the first time with my Mom driving down to Fredericksburg. We both realized how much my grandfather would have loved the music. Now I can't listen to it without thinking of him and imagining him humming along, or without thinking about that trip with my Mom and how much fun we always have on our road trips.

I won't ever be able to listen to a Carole King song again without thinking of Mom's surprise (sort of) birthday trip and seeing her live. Every time I listen to my Bread CD I think of my Dad, the smell of coffee and lazy Sunday mornings.

When I hear old-school country, especially Buck Owens, I think of Saturday nights at Nana and Papa's house. He would let me ride on his shins like a horse while he watched Hee Haw and Porter Waggoner.

And now, when I dance around the room with Gabriel (something I've discovered puts him to sleep faster and better than any other tactic), I realize I'm combining old memories of much beloved songs with making brand new ones. And even though none of his great grandparents ever got to hold him, they're smiling at the part they're getting to play in his life.