We all have a soundtrack to our
lives, like the Jimmy Buffett tape (CD, mp3, phone) we slap on the car stereo
for a summer trip to the beach. I personally like to listen to The Pretenders
singing about the chain gang as I work in our garden as the days get warmer and
warmer. But there is music that inserts itself unbidden along the way from
doctor’s offices, elevators, dentist’s offices, and coffee shops to name a few.
They are songs that stick as part of our life’s music because it gets stuck in
your head, it embodies a certain irony, or simply and unexpectedly fills a
moment.
Being a man of a certain age, I
recall my most recent colonoscopy last year (unfortunately all are…uh…memorable).
Gastroenterologists are their own breed who see the humor in what they do.
Their offices often have blue signage with jokes that you can easily guess.
Anyway, as with many procedures the doctor will have music playing that they
prefer to work to. As the Propofol started to guide me into disremembering I
could hear the music switch on to “Let’s Get it On,” by Marvin Gaye. That’s
just wrong.
In the dentist’s office recently
for the dreaded expensive deep gum cleaning, as the hygienist was going at my mouth
sans Novocain (I can’t stand needles in my mouth), there was music playing over
the office speakers. I don’t know if it was canned or simply a radio station,
but as I listened while there was griding, probing, suction, and what I
strongly suspect was the hygienist making funny shapes with my lips for her
enjoyment, Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb” played. Really?
Some music in my life attaches
itself unintentionally to a moment, or activity. The one that comes easily to
mind is my constant playing of the “Grand Illusion” album by Styx. It was the
summer that I was finally taking time to read Peter Benchley’s “Jaws.” Now the
two are forever intwined. Although, I guess it is fitting to think of shark
attacks whenever “Come Sail Away” is played.
In that same vein, another memory
comes forward. This time associated with my youthful days as a runner. In college,
I was part of the Outta Control Track Club. Team colors black and blue of
course (kudos to Eddie Pennebaker for coming up with that), and a team moto of “There
is no control like outta control.” The guys and I were in Greenville just down
the road from Clemson, joining in on a 4x5 mile relay. When it was my turn to
run for the team, I took off. Legs pumping, breath coming fast but easy. I felt
like I was flying as I ran the fastest 5-mile time of my life, 26:40. And in my
head, the entire circuit was Mick Jagger wailing “Start Me Up.” I’m thankful
that takes pre-eminence over the standard runner’s tunes of the theme from Rocky
or Chariots of Fire.
I spend two or three hours a week
in Coffee Shops, reading, writing, eating, and drinking good coffee. The music though
is really hit or miss. Some shops like playing odd alternative music at low
volumes which only leaves a jumbled misunderstood collection of words and notes
in my head. A rare few play poplar music, and some play folk or jazz. This
morning at Switchback Coffee just down the street, as I ate eggs and toast and
had a mug of coffee (espressos and custom coffee drinks have fixed prices, the
mug of drip is what you can afford or as I choose, the Pay It Forward option),
they played popular music. Or actually music that at one time, long ago, and
far away just to the east of the Death Star was popular. The last song that
came as I was self-bussing and gathering my letter writing tools was “Loving
You” by Minnie Riperton. Memories of high school came flooding back. But I no
longer remember how I looked then, and my mind saw this old man amid timeless
young ghosts. And though those thoughts are returning to dormancy, I cannot get
“Loving You” out of my head even as I bid Alexa to play Rickie Lee Jones. Save
me, Rickie.
