I'm starting to rediscover the joy of singing lately. Loudly, and with feeling, to CDs in the car, and since I've kept the majority of my music on my iPod for years and years now, this means revisiting the musical catalog of my college and high school days.
I've got a few ideas about the catalyst behind this sudden impulse, but a large part is that our valiant '97 Ford Escort was recently laid to rest, and Mr. Milkweed's parents made us the insanely generous gift of their '04 Honda Accord. Which has leather interior. Seat warmers. Heat and AC that actually work. And a six CD changer.
Yeah, I know.
We sometimes argue over who gets to drive it.
So this whole return to music (because that's really what this is about, as much as singing) began with Matthew Sweet's album 100% Fun, which I tossed in the car both because I could find it and because I thought it might be something Eva would like. A girl after my own heart, she's also fond of singer-songwriter stuff heavy on guitars and memorable lyrics. Which is great, because after a few weeks with nothing but my iPod's workout mix on rotation, I realized she knew most of the words to a Rhianna's "Please Don't Stop the Music." No four year old needs to sing about "acting naughty," even if she probably takes that lyric at face value.
Anyway, I pushed play and was instantly taken back to junior and senior year of high school. I sang then, too-- I used to literally lean into the music, turning up my boom box as loud as it would go while simultaneously resting my head between the speakers and closing my eyes. (I'll be deaf in about ten years.) I associate so many songs with this exact position-- everything from songs by Luna to REM to American Music Club to the Crash Test Dummies.*
There was something about all the possibility in the air of those years that gave me a lot of restless energy that only singing could dissipate. And it's definitely true that I have a lot of restless energy these days, although it's related entirely not at all to acne and dating woes and more to God. Turns out that turning in towards the Center of All Things can be kind of emotionally taxing, particularly if you're trying to understand your call in life and sussing out whether it might be something different than what you'd expected. But who's to say? Turn up the music.
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*I know, I know-- the "Mmmmm Mmmmm Mmmmm Mmmmm" band, but I refused to be judged on this point, because have you ever actually listened to "God Shuffled His Feet?" Liquid gold, baby. As is the lead singer's long hair, which is what Mr. Milkweed's used to look like:
1 comment:
Man, my hair looked awesome in the 1990s. And you know, it was not difficult to manage at all. (Not the way I managed it! Which was to splash it every other day.)
And a hat tip all around to the Crash Test Dummies, a really underrated group.
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