Monday, September 20, 2004

And now for something completely different

I went for a bona fide solo walk the other day. No stroller (single or double), no dawdling toddler in tow. Just me and my Walkman. Yes, a Walkman. We are so untrendy, my iPod-less spouse and I.

I found a mix tape that I created about 100 years ago, so long ago that I had forgotten what was on the tape. What a cool discovery—songs by Belly, The Story, Dada, Sugarcubes, Suddenly Tammy, the Roches, Cocteau Twins, The Smiths, Kirsty MacColl. Except for the fact that my cardiovascular system is a wee bit underdeveloped as of late, I almost felt energized enough to jog.

It made me reflect on the distance between now and then. I was never into cutting-edge or truly "alternative" music, but there was a time when I actively sought out new or different artists. And even longer ago than that was the vast wasteland of my teen and preteen years. Imagine such a gluttony of free time that I could sit in my room for hours, listening to an album (boy, am I dating myself) and reading the lyrics over and over again until I committed all the words to memory. And my MTV addiction? Let's not even go there. Suffice it to say that the percentage of my brain taken up by pop culture knowledge, particularly from the 1980s, is truly humbling.

I know there's a point in here somewhere.

Oh, right, the not-so-profound realization that I kind of miss music. I envy Jeff, who is a drummer and knows a lot more about music than I do. He's a lot more passionate, too, and is always eager to ferret out new releases and listen to newly discovered jazz artists or drummers. After the kids are a little older and I get my groove back, I'm hoping to delve back into the under-commercialized folky-rock catalog.

For now, though, I guess I'll settle for another round of "Wheels on the Bus." Well, right after I buy REM's new CD.