I’m listening to a CD that Eric made for me last Christmas – a compilation of “Chicago” songs… songs that either mention Chicago, or were sung by people from Chicago. A little Frank Sinatra, a little Elvis, plus some Snow Patrol and The Fray and My Chemical Romance. Eric, like me, has this great eclectic musical taste – interests spanning the centuries. Depending on my mood, I can be listening to anything from Bach to Beethoven to Billy Joel to Barenaked Ladies to Beck to Beyonce – and it’s not unusual that I might listen to a song or two from each one, right after another, just to mix things up. Gotta keep it interesting, right?
When I think back on how many times music has been a presence in my life, I sometimes wish I could have my very own life soundtrack. I mean, all those people in movies and on TV get soundtracks – why shouldn’t we have them in real life? Some situations just seem to lend themselves to soundtracks – watching a sunset (something nice and soothing, or perhaps big and dramatic)… waiting in line at the DMV (a kooky, silly song would be just the thing to illustrate the absurdity of the DMV)… running into a good friend (cue the happy music)… or perhaps someone you wish you HADN’T run into (Simple Plan’s “Vacation” is coming to mind). Of course, everyone would have a different soundtrack, and all that music would just create one big mishmashed cacophony…
There are so many memories in my life that are linked to music. Like helping my mom make Christmas cookies in our first house on Pioneer Drive… although I’m not sure how much I “helped” when I was little. Maybe it was more like I watched my mom make Christmas cookies, and then “helped” her lick the batter off the spoon… and then soon afterward I would “help” her sample the frosting and then “help” her eat a few cookies to make sure they were just right. But there would always be Christmas music in the background – the Christmas cookie-making soundtrack consisted of Barbra Streisand’s Christmas record, and I believe a singer named “Evie” who appeared on her album cover with 70’s feathered blond hair. I can still remember Barbra’s extra-fast version of “Jingle Bells,” which I’d always try to sing when the record was playing. I haven’t heard that particular arrangement in a while, but any time I do hear it, it immediately takes me back to that kitchen on Pioneer Drive…
When I was a senior in high school, that B-52’s song “Love Shack” was really popular. And for some reason, when it got to the part about “juke-box money,” I would always hear “don’t forget to bring your juice box money.” I think maybe because kids used to play that song after school when they were hanging out in the cafeteria… don’t even ask me why kids were hanging out in the cafeteria after school… But it would be playing in the cafeteria, and I would think about that juice box I’d brought with my lunch that afternoon, and then there it was in the song – juice box money. And I still think of my school cafeteria when I hear that stupid song… and cran-apple juice boxes…
Some songs make great road-trip songs… I remember one time when I was riding in a car with Dave and Eric, and they both sang along to every word of Billy Joel’s “Scenes From an Italian Restaurant.” All seven and a half minutes of it. And as I sat quietly in the back of the car, I couldn’t help but wonder how many other times they’d sung along with that song… I mean, they had it down pat. Something told me they’d been practicing before I got there… I’ve always preferred to listen to music when I’m driving in a car, as opposed to, say, listening to talk radio. Talk radio just doesn’t provide the right road-trip soundtrack…
So what would be my blog-writing soundtrack? I suppose, like the rest of life, it would change on a daily basis. Today, it happens to be Frank Sinatra, Elvis and The Fray…
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