Whoa, Memories!

I am currently taking a trip down memory lane. My computer’s screen saver popped up and album covers flipped around. I decided to play some music. Nelly Furtado’s Whoa, Nelly! popped up as a cover, so I clicked on it.

I can still see this CD spinning around my purple portable CD player.

I finally received the CD player for Christmas when I was in third grade (I played the “my best friend has one!” card). I wanted Whoa, Nelly! because my high school idol had mentioned she loved the song “I’m Like A Bird.”

I still remember listening to the CD in the tent Adam got for Christmas that year.

It is amazing how our brains work. I have not taken the time to listen to this CD in years, but now it is playing and I know every word. Like now, “I’m trynna find a way / I’m trynna find a right / but if I budge I just might…”

I remember being appalled when I heard “shit” in one song and “fuck” twice – twice!  – in another. My third grade mind was blown when I realized my parents trusted me with the unedited version (though it is more probable that an unedited version was not available).

The cool thing is, I still like that music. My taste has evolved, and yet remained the same. It’s amazing what music can do.

It all started with a record player

A few weeks ago, I bought myself a record player. I was ecstatic to find it at such a good price, and was beaming as I walked out of the store with the box in my arms.

When we got home, I immediately took it into the Living Room and set it up. My parents taught me how to use it and to be careful not to jump around whilst listening to it. My mother and I ventured into the cave (our basement) to retrieve some of their old records to bring back some of the past. We carried armload after armload upstairs to the Living Room and left them in stacks all around the room. I left the ones I bought earlier that day (Coheed & Cambria and a Fueled By Ramen package that were extremely cheap) on the couch and my dad and I had a look-see to pick out what I should listen to first.

I thought my brothers would think it cool for me to have purchased a record player, but they avoided me like I had the plague. They seemed pretty pissed off and jealous that I got to one first and because my parents’ old one needs a new needle thing. Trevor especially because I bought Coheed & Cambria. Because he likes them, I’m not allowed to. Oh well.

My dad sat on the couch as I rifled through stack after stack, holding record after record up seeking his approval. All of the ones with his name written on them were the ones approved – all of the ones with Barbra Streisand on the cover were kept in a pile that I would not listen to. Sorry, mom.

I have discovered a whole new music taste thanks to my record player (though it does have a CD player, radio and iPod hookup included, I tend to listen to records on it more). I found out that I love the bands Sweet, REO Speedwagon (You Can Tune A Piano But You Can’t Tuna Fish), Joan Jett & The Black Hearts, The Knack, Boomtown Rats, Supertramp, Cheap Trick, Pink Floyd, London Town and some Pat Benatar. I still love Escape the Fate, Paramore, Tilly and the Wall, and all of the other bands I have always loved, but I am now broadening my music taste. It’s cool to think that my parents played these records once at the same age I am now. I wish I could go back and meet the teenage versions of them. My mom and I would be identical, and I bet my dad and I would have fun listening to music together – just like we do now.