A song was playing in the restaurant as we were sliding the Italian bread into the olive oil. "Danny’s Song" by Loggins & Messina. "That song reminds me of riding in the backseat when I was seven. We were on our way to Sarasota." Jamie looked at me and said, "Songs remind you of a specific memory?" I thought it was that way for everyone. I am surprised to learn otherwise. "Collide" by Howie Day reminds me of the greatest kiss I have ever shared. Dylan’s "Tangled Up in Blue" brings a memory of the days when I owned a restaurant and worked harder than I ever have - a night after closing when the staff was crowded around the bar and was shocked to find that I knew all the words. "Miss You So Badly" by Buffett reminds me of my senior class trip. "Outlaw Women" by Hank Jr. reminds me of drunk redneck nights in the mountain mud. "Fuse" by Joe Henry reminds me of the record-setting sex marathon. "Alice’s Restaurant" (Arlo Guthrie) reminds me of great weed and a day by the river. "Gone" by Montgomery Gentry flashes pictures of my 4 year old singing loudly and dropping to his knees and firing invisible six-shooters at the phrase "bang, bang." I love music.
I started piano lessons at age six. I begged to quit every year, and my mother let me take summers off. I got ridiculed, beat up. Then, when I was in high school, I found that girls thought it was cool that I could play. I didn’t quit anymore. I formed a band. I majored in classical performance. I still play. I listen to music, write music, play music. It is very much a part of my life. Many songs are so tied to specific experiences that it is as if the songs are puppetmasters, making memories dance at the end of the strings.
It is this stretch of time from the beginning of the year to spring break that passes so slowly for me. These days turn my playlists to more melancholy sounds - "Love Street" by the Doors; "Forecast" by Jason Mraz; "Wreck of the Day" by Anna Nalick; classical and jazz and blues; some old country. I love all the seasons’ musical changes, and the memories they tug, dancing in my head. I love even more the new songs that attach themselves so subtly to new memories. A toast to you and to the new year. Whatever music means to you, I hope your songs are heard this year.
