Dan and I have never allowed our kids to choose the music. Not in the house and definitely not in the car. We don’t have the patience for what “kids these days” listen to and we love our own music too much. When Dan and I first started dating, there were arguments over James Taylor vs Jimi Hendrix (I love him, but not for lounging out) and Simon and Garfunkel vs Rush (Dan will NEVER win that argument), but we settled into a groove quickly and found that there is plenty of music we both love. Jack and Anna have grown up with the Dead and Son Volt and Steely Dan and REM and Elvis Costello and Joe Jackson and Tom Petty and Bob Dylan and and and and. Even now that the kids are older (and Jack is Jack), if you peek in our windows after dinner some nights, you might find us all dancing in the kitchen.
Music is part of our duct tape.
They say that smell is the sense that is most closely linked to memory, but there is something primal that happens when you hear a song that you love. Tangled Up in Blue and Forever Young make me stop what I’m doing and sing out loud (sorry) and I’ve found myself sitting in grocery store parking lots more than once with tears running down my face because of a song on the radio – Beautiful Boy gets me every time. Then there are the songs that remind you of a time in your life – American Pie while I played with my dolls in the basement on Mountain Avenue next to my mother on her sawing machine, Free Bird at my first middle school dance, Me and Bobby McGee blaring from the jukebox at Long John’s Bar during my college years, Hey Ya as life saving stem cells went into my son’s veins in 2007.
As a teenager, my friends and I would make each other mixed tapes with our favorite music. We would send them to each other when we were in college – better than brownies. And, a mixed tape from a guy was way better than flowers or jewelry. It said so much about who they were and what they thought of you. I still have a pile of tapes in my box of memories. I’ll never part with them.
Dan’s love of music is fierce. His album collection is his most prized possession. A few years ago I made four large wall hangings – each with 15 of his favorite album covers. My plan was to hang them in his office, but they quickly found their way downstairs. We like to be surrounded by music.
Jack and Anna are a little older now and have their opinions. Jack found One Direction on his own, and if you play him just a second of one of their songs, he will shoot out of his seat and jump up and down. And, Anna’s room is always loud with music and some of it is lame, but I’m happy to report that much of it is familiar.
Anna got her driver’s license last month and we gave her Dan’s old car. She’s made it her own with new bumpers stickers and snacks in the glovebox. She also changed the radio stations. I can’t say that I approve of all of them, but I noticed last week that Tom Petty Radio was saved on channel one. All I could think was that we’d had done a pretty good job raising her.
This week has been horrific. My heart goes out to all the families/friends of those who lived through the horror and those who died in Las Vegas Sunday night (when is this going to end folks?). Mexico, Puerto Rico, Las Vegas — Watching the news has become so difficult the last few days, that I find myself avoiding television and leaning on music for entertainment. And, music isn’t safe either.
We’ve lost a lot of legends the last year. Just to name a few: Prince, George Michael, Glenn Frey, David Bowie, Gregg Allman, and now – Tom Petty. Anna was the first person I called when I heard the news that he had died. I heard Petty coming from her room last night as I went to bed and I played a lot of his music yesterday. Many of his songs hold some wonderful memories.
That high school reunion I talked about a couple of weeks ago is this weekend. I forgot to lose the five pounds and don’t really have the perfect outfit, but I am looking forward to it. I think seeing some old friends, laughing about old times and listening to good music sounds pretty darn awesome.
“It’s sort of hope amongst the ruins, I think. To me we’re all in the great wide open. I think life is pretty wild; I really want to like the world, but at the same time I have to write about what I see.” (Tom Petty 1991)