In May of 1994 most of my graduating high school class headed to Wildwood, NJ for Memorial Day weekend. I was not allowed to go, as my parents were horrible strict Nazis whose main goal was to ruin my life.
My friend Melissa invited me to her family's shore house, and, since there would be a chaperone, I was granted a reprieve from my tower. On the ride down we listened to tapes on our walkmen (how lame, right) and I fell in love with an album called August and Everything After by The Counting Crows. I don't remember really loving a band or artist up until that point, save for Madonna, which every girl my age had to love growing up. But here I was, down and dirty with the love, and my affair with The Counting Crows ran deep, and carried through my college years.
Boston was special in many ways, one of them being the existence of small music stores, as well as large well known chains, and so I was able to build my CD (I know, lame again) collection.
Those four years were filled with The Dave Matthews Band, Blues Traveler, The Wallflowers, and The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, and I re-discovered James and Toad the Wet Sprocket. It wasn't unheard of for the elevator doors to open on my dorm floor and hear Hootie and the Blowfish's Let Her Cry blasting from someone's room, which remains one of my favorite songs to date. And one of my fondest memories is happening upon the Barenaked Ladies playing in an outside pavilion while shopping with friends on a Saturday. Not to be outdone by when someone handed me a white blank CD at an expo asking me to take a listen to an up and coming band: No Doubt.
After graduating, I returned to NJ where I listened to a lot of dance music, as well as some vintage freestyle, thanks to Gina. I went nuts over Sporty Spice's I Turn To You and I think I might have died when I watched the 1999 Grammy Awards and Ricky Martin sang La Copa de la Vida.
And THEN. Oh and then. In 2000 I watched a summer show on The WB called Young Americans. And that's when I heard David Gray for the first time. And I quit my job, moved him with him, made him my boyfriend and have been baking him brownies ever since. I've only seen him in concert once, last year at the Theatre at Madison Square Garden, and I only cried twice, so that was progress. Not even the enormous fight Greg and I had after that concert can take away from that night--that was the best concert I've ever seen, and the twinkling lights from the disco ball that reached every square inch of the theater during A Moment Changes Everything took my breath away.
These days I spend my time listening to Christine Stone and Richard Blade tell me what to like on Sirius Spectrum and it mostly consists of The Avett Brothers, Mumford and Sons, Florence and the Machine, Gomez, Amos Lee, and Bob Schneider. Guster is NOT a fave of mine, but I melt when Mr. Blade says that word in his sexy English accent so I make an exception.
My daughter loves her some Rihanna (doesn't matter which song, she loves them all), and Katy Perry, and Train, and all three of those names sometime hurt me to say, but hey, to each their own.
Thank you all for the nice words about my last post. Believe me, I wasn't trolling for compliments about my actions, but I sure do appreciate what everyone said. If there is one question I was asked more than any other, it was if, as I was running to the flipped car, did I think about what I could possibly find inside there. And the answer is no, I couldn't even remember to turn off my own car the first time, do you really think I was thinking about anything at that point? Honestly, my biggest fear was that a child would be stuck in the flipped car and I wouldn't have been able to negotiate the focacca strap/hook deal that keeps the damn seat attached. When it comes to gadgets, technology and mechanics, I am not bright.
**A line from a Brandon Flowers song. It's catchy.
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Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
7/19/10
Fridays in the Park
We are lucky enough to live in a town that has a Cultural Arts Department that hosts Friday night concerts. We pack up the chairs, blankets, snacks, drinks, and ourselves and head on over to the field for 6 Fridays in the summer.
This past Friday was our first concert this summer. Leah's at a great age now because she 1) doesn't remember anything from the past so saying things like, "We are going to a concert!" appears to be something she's never done before in her life, despite the fact that we did it last summer, and therefore, she's really, really excited to try something new. 2) She understands things like, "We are going to a concert!" to at least mean that will be leaving the house now, so put on your shoes already, and we know that, soon, once the music starts, she will be learning something new. Mainly: what a concert is.
Friday's concert featured Patrick Fitzsimmons, the original drummer from From Good Homes. We arrived and started the night with some snacks:
Then, the concert started. It was phenomenal, and we really enjoyed it. I was really proud of Leah for sitting on the blanket and listening to the music. I knew she wasn't feeling her best, but she was such a good listener. Greg and I joined her on the blanket a little later and sat and listened to the music.
When we arrived home, though, she was running a fever. In fact, she's had one all weekend, and this morning we took her to the doctor and found out that she has an ear infection. Poor baby.
This past Friday was our first concert this summer. Leah's at a great age now because she 1) doesn't remember anything from the past so saying things like, "We are going to a concert!" appears to be something she's never done before in her life, despite the fact that we did it last summer, and therefore, she's really, really excited to try something new. 2) She understands things like, "We are going to a concert!" to at least mean that will be leaving the house now, so put on your shoes already, and we know that, soon, once the music starts, she will be learning something new. Mainly: what a concert is.
Friday's concert featured Patrick Fitzsimmons, the original drummer from From Good Homes. We arrived and started the night with some snacks:
Then, the concert started. It was phenomenal, and we really enjoyed it. I was really proud of Leah for sitting on the blanket and listening to the music. I knew she wasn't feeling her best, but she was such a good listener. Greg and I joined her on the blanket a little later and sat and listened to the music.
When we arrived home, though, she was running a fever. In fact, she's had one all weekend, and this morning we took her to the doctor and found out that she has an ear infection. Poor baby.
Hope you had a great weekend.
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4/29/10
Theme Song
And we’re back!
It’s like the minute I tell my body that we are going to be exercising, it goes and throws a protest and decides that we are going to be virus-ing instead.
Anyway, I’ve been filling up my ipod with all different types of music. I spend a lot of time driving and listening to music, and I find my mind wandering while listening trying to find the real meaning of songs. I probably read into songs way too much, but I like thinking that there are hidden messages that the songwriters threw in there that only a few people will figure out.
I’m nuts.
Remember when Ally McBeal came up with that whole “theme song” thing? Where everyone had a theme song that would play in their head? I often wonder what my theme song would be. Although my life ebs and flows, and there are good and bad times, one song always seems to adequately represent me more than any others.
“One Headlight” by the Wallflowers.
I’m not sure if I know what that song is about, but in my head? It’s about me exactly.
Surely, I can’t be the only one who has a theme song? Anyone else?
And, because I love ya, here’s a picture of my great kid. Yesterday was a rough day at our house, and a normal two year old might not have handled a sick mom and dad as well as Leah did. She’s a champ.
It’s like the minute I tell my body that we are going to be exercising, it goes and throws a protest and decides that we are going to be virus-ing instead.
Anyway, I’ve been filling up my ipod with all different types of music. I spend a lot of time driving and listening to music, and I find my mind wandering while listening trying to find the real meaning of songs. I probably read into songs way too much, but I like thinking that there are hidden messages that the songwriters threw in there that only a few people will figure out.
I’m nuts.
Remember when Ally McBeal came up with that whole “theme song” thing? Where everyone had a theme song that would play in their head? I often wonder what my theme song would be. Although my life ebs and flows, and there are good and bad times, one song always seems to adequately represent me more than any others.
“One Headlight” by the Wallflowers.
I’m not sure if I know what that song is about, but in my head? It’s about me exactly.
Surely, I can’t be the only one who has a theme song? Anyone else?
And, because I love ya, here’s a picture of my great kid. Yesterday was a rough day at our house, and a normal two year old might not have handled a sick mom and dad as well as Leah did. She’s a champ.
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