So, it's been an interesting week. I finished up my last days of vacation before becoming officially unemployed as of the 1st of May.
Neat.
I did not really go through any emotional goodbyes with colleagues or anything, but I did have a few reflective moments. I was amazed to find that, despite my acceptance of this unplanned situation, I was not quite ready to shut the door; I did not feel quite ready to finish the chapter and go on to the next.
A friend asked me several weeks ago, "How do you feel?" and I have constantly thought about the question. There are so many answers that I can give...and to be truthful, the answers are all over the emotional spectrum. It's easy to go down the doom and gloom path, especially in this current climate, but what kept winning out were the more postive, fresh start kind of thoughts.
And that got me to thinking about a few music triggers. Songs that immediately grab you and generate such a reaction, such feelings, such emotions, that one quickly gets postively overwhelmed.
For me, I have an incredibly long list of such songs, from various artists. "Born to Run," for example. Or "Rio." The Who's "Won't Get Fooled Again," also quickly comes to mind. Hell, I am particularly fond of "Brand New Lover," namely because the hooks were so great. Many of the songs are anthem like, but others are just darn good songs with an awesome melody, whether they be dark and brooding, heavy industrial, or even poppy songs (that I almost wouldn't admit to listening to).
Most of these songs I first heard when I was much younger, 30-40 years ago. I think that is significant, because that's an impressionable age for everyone. And anyone who says they weren't an agst ridden teenager is most certainly not being truthful. But it is relative.
Some teens worried about their looks, their popularity. Others were stressed out about their grades, doing well in school, meeting their parents expectations, dealing with all the emotionally wrecked people who all behaved in various ways. The not so cool kids were jealous of the really popular kids, but the super social people were terrified that they'd be found out to be superficial. People were quick to judge, based on looks, behavior, and attitude. Everyone wanted to be noticed, but no one wanted to stand out.
That's tremendous pressure. It's right up there with being cooped up for 2 months at home without being able to go out and meet friends, go shopping, get a haircut, or do all the stuff that makes you feel okay. Suddenly, it all becomes too much and you find yourself about to explode.
And then a song comes into your head, and maybe, just maybe, you get a moment to suddenly stop, take a breath, and reset. And the memories, the feelings that you had when you first heard that song come flooding back all at once.
Maybe it was me toweling off after a shower during the week and noticing how my very thin hair had grown so long that it reminded me of circa 1985. Suddenly the intro to the Cult's classic song came into my head, and I completed the drying off experience by air-guitaring around my apartment.
I first heard the song as a 15 year old, when the song was released. To this day, the moment I hear the start of the song, I immediately feel like I did when I originally heard it. Like magic, all the crap associated with being a teenager is pushed aside, and all the postive stuff comes flooding forward. You feel giddy, knowing that just by hearing the song, you can do anything and everything: you win Wimbeldon and the World Cup (simultaneously), while receiving a Nobel prize later that afternoon.
Your imagination soars with countless amazing things are all happening at once.
You feel unstoppable.
What I like abourt this song is the impact it has on so many diverse groups of music listeners, across various music genres. True, it was (and is) one of probably 10-15 clubhits that, once the DJ put the record on, prompted EVERY single patron to hit the dance floor, including those folks standing in line outside waiting to get in the club. I remember driving around the city for the next 10 years, and would notice other drivers who were obviously listening to the same song. There is something really cool about listening to muisc from the car radio and noticing when someone else is listening to the exact same thing. It didn't happen all that often, which made it all the more exciting, and probably safer. (This is why radio stations don't play "Born to Run" very often; that song prompts everyone to start driving at least 40-50 mph faster than they were, regardless if they are on the highway, driving downtown, or in a school zone)
I have been in rock clubs in Portugal, beer festivals in Germany, beach parties in Spain, or just sitting in a half-empty pub. Queue intro to "She Sells Sanctuary," and everyone goes nuts. The quiet older man nursing his Guinness at the end of the bar even starts tapping his feet.
And the smiles are everywhere. People who never dance start cutting a rug bigger than life. Mild mannered people who NEVER want to show their "other side" suddenly release their inhibitions.
Talk about letting go of yourself.
It's an amazing experience, and after I took another shower after the dance-athon in my flat, I started wondering if it would have made a difference had I first heard the song at a different age. I personally doubt it, but it is relative. Impressions are funny things, but they hit you at any age. The fascination comes from the perspective. That's how the triggers work.
And the point is not to dismiss or ignore the baggage that we carry, whether it be acne, poor grades in school, arguments with parents, frustrations at the challenges of trying to fit in, or things like being unemployed, feeling isolated, figuring out how to explain to your kids why they can't go outside and play with their friends, or watching your 401k flush down the toilet.
All of that stuff is still there, but how we deal with it is up to us.
And I'd rather deal with it with a smile on my face, feeling like I am unstoppable.
That's why, when my boxers ripped down the back (during the dancing), I attributed it to the fact that I have been doing a lot of lunges and squats, building up the muscles in my legs and glutes. That seems much more plausible than saying that the boxers had been washed thin by too many laundry cycles.
Queue the song.
bryan
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