If There Was A Soundtrack To My Life…

Wait, There Is.

You know when you hear a song and it brings you back to a certain place and time, there is no better feeling. It is amazing when the music fills your spirit and transports you to another time. Music has always been a very important part of my life. If I were to have a soundtrack, I would want it to be as epic as the soundtracks for The Big Chill, Reality Bites, Trainspotting, Pulp Fiction, or Forrest Gump. But, I suppose it is. It is bits and pieces of all of those productions as well as a few of my own memorable scenes. The soundtrack of your life documents all of the places you’ve gone, the people you’ve met, your adventures, your loss, and all that you have accomplished.

Record players.

I started out with record players. I remember, first, the plastic Fisher Price one with the spikes and grooves in the plastic records that turned out nursery rhymes and familiar songs. Then, I remember asking my mother to play Sesame Street Fever and dancing crazily as Ernie sang to his dear Rubber Ducky. Then, one Christmas, I got my own player with a psychedelic patterned record box to hold 45s and a starter pack of records picked out by my teenage babysitter. Every week, I would go to the record store and scroll through the Top 40 Playlist to pick a new 45. I had Toni Basil, Bonnie Tyler, The Stray Cats, Journey, The Manhattan Transfer, The Steve Miller Band, The Cars, and so many more. I wish I hung onto that box of records.

However, as music changed, each new innovation made the last seem so outdated and archaic.

Tapes.

When cassette tapes came along we were bouncing between home stereo systems and boom boxes. Tapes lasted a long time. They moved me from hip hop, breakdancing, rap, back to the top 40s, and on a deep dive into music history. I had a stereo in my room and a boom box for the street. I was just another pre-teen, suburban gangster.

I started out with Sheena Easton, Sheila E, and Prince. Then, took a left to Slick Rick, Big Daddy Kane, Grandmaster Flash, The Sugar Hill Gang, Public Enemy, and the Beastie Boys. I still dabbled in the Top 40, but found that you could buy single cassettes similar to my 45s, one song at a time. Then, I loved 80s rock…Duran Duran, Joan Jett, J. Geils Band, Van Halen, Poison, Bon Jovi, Twisted Sister, Motley Crue, and Whitesnake.

It’s funny. I don’t think there was music I didn’t like. I remember Tiffany and Debbie Gibson, Michael Jackson, Lionel Richie, and Billie Joel, A-ha, INXS, Squeeze, Wham, Madonna, Whitney Houston, The Bangles, and Culture Club. These are only the tip of the iceberg. I also remember my father’s 8 tracks of Hank Williams and Loretta Lynn.

I remember creating my own mix tapes, using the dual cassettes on the boom box or stereo or even holding the tape player close to the radio and starting and stopping the button at just the right time so you didn’t include the deejay’s voice. My best friend sent me two mix tapes from the Navy. He hand-picked the songs and carefully catalogued the music on the table of contents included with the tape. God, I wish I still had those cassettes.

As I grew older, I slipped back in time and fell in love with Greatest Hits Albums: Patsy Cline, Led Zeppelin, the Doors, Neil Diamond, Barry Manilow, Kenny Rogers, Van Morrison, Peter, Paul, and Mary, The Carpenters, and Eric Clapton.

Sony Walkman.

At one point, I had enough money to buy myself a yellow Sony Walkman. It was my prized possession. In fact, I bought it with my very first credit card. I think I had a handle on how to use the Walkman but certainly not the credit card, I am not sure if it was ever completely paid off. It did, set my life to music though.

I awoke each morning and chose a couple of tapes to pipe into my day. I fell in love with Tori Amos, Alanis Morrissette, Sinead O’Connor, Elvis Costello, The Corrs, REM, U2, Daft Punk, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, The Verve, Offspring, Green Day, Weezer, and Oasis.

The tough part about Walkmen and Discmen was, with music piped into your ears, you often felt transported and forgot where you were. This led to embarrassing incidents of singing out loud in a public place where no one could hear the music. Or…I once found myself strutting through the high-end shopping center located beneath my office like I was walking into a nightclub.

Discman.

By the time the Discman and cds really became part of my life, I was blessed with the gift of Columbia House and I took them for every penny I taped to the ad in the Sunday paper and mailed back to start my ninth or tenth subscription. I was now faced with a decision, would I switch everything I already owned to cds or would I purchase only new music. I did what every young adult did at the time and tried to get some bang for my buck. I bought greatest hits and compilation cds. I had music in every genre from every decade.

At this point, I fell in love with Irish music and ballads, Macy Gray, Dido, James Taylor, Carly Simon, and David Gray. I had a cd from Ireland called A Woman’s Heart and I loved every angsty syllable. I also loved techno and disco and tried to stay on top of what was on the radio. I could also save my music to my computer and listen there. My collection was growing and growing.

We gave out cds as wedding favors. There were songs to document our life and our love. They included Christy Moore, Journey, Aerosmith, and quite a few others.

Music was a huge part of my life. I remember when Lucy was a baby, I used to strap her into the carrier thing and dance through my daily routine. As a baby she loved disco. She would laugh and smile as we danced and vacuumed, dance and cleaned up, dance and sang, just danced. I remember when I returned to work, a manager remarked that he had never seen someone lose their baby weight so quickly. I was promptly replied that I had been disco dancing daily for months.

IPod.

My brother gave me my first IPod for Christmas when my children were very little. in fact, I was setting up the dining room at work on my first day back and found myself with tears running down my face. Outkast was singing Roses and I would sing this too Lucy as I changed her diaper, “I know that you think that your shit don’t stink, but lean a little closer, your roses but smell like poo, poo. poo.” I had to laugh.

All of our memories were set to music. Now, I had my music and the kids were growing their own soundtracks. We had dance parties often and they used to squabble over what we put on, “Michael Jackson!” “No, Barry White!” I remember being so proud of their music appreciation. I remember laughing through tears one morning as they were getting ready for school and an impromptu dance party occurred when “Let Me Clear My Throat” by DJ Kool came on and they climbed up on the kitchen table to dance it out. My favorite photo in the world of my children was taken that morning.

Between my cds and the wonders of Napster, I remember thinking that my IPod was the most amazing gift in the world. It was like having a party streamed into your ears with the best dj in the world. I remember thinking, this is the amazing, who picked this song? Oh, I did. For months, I danced through my days. I listened to the IPod so much that it became a huge part of my day-to-day. I loved that the music was so random when you set it to random. It carried me through time and space to different moments in my life. I’d be singing along with Garth Brooks when he’d leave the stage to make room for Biz Markie who would bow out for The Waterboys who would set up for James who would leave room for Oasis…It was amazing.

When my marriage ended, I took up the gym. I would walk the kids to school and head to the gym after. I started out with twenty minutes of cardio. I found this to be the most exhausting part of my workout, not because it was particularly strenuous but, due to the IPod. I would be walking along happily with one song, strutting to the next, and then bam, I’d be crying. This god damned IPod was an emotional roller coaster. I continued going to the gym but I put the IPod in a drawer where it stayed.

About two years later, I was dating my now fiancé and he was faced with a terrible commute. He mentioned that he wished he had some music. I dug out the Ipod from the drawer and let him use it. A few weeks later, he called me in the morning from work and his voice sounded shaky. I said, “Are you crying?” He replied, “I don’t know what it is.” I thought for a moment and said, “Are you listening to that IPod? It’s the IPod! Throw it off the roof!”

It’s funny how music is there for you when you are up and your down. I often wondered if it was the same songs that threw him off the deep-end that led to my cardio induced crying jags. Music is tricky. It carries you back in time and has an intricate filing system in your brain, cross-referencing time, place, age, and interests. It can lift you up and slap you down. It can set your day on fire or leave you in a puddle. Sometimes it carries right where you need to be and sometimes it sits you right next to someone who is no longer with you. Years have passed since I broke up with that IPod and somedays I really miss it.

Streaming services.

I don’t have my records, my tapes, my cds, or my IPod anymore, but, I do have a lifetime of memories. Now, when I want to hear something I choose a playlist on Spotify. Sometimes, I think I should create my own playlists but then, lose interest. I hop around. I choose my destination by genre and date. I always listen to music in the car but rarely in the house now that the kids are older. I need to start that up again. God knows, I could use an old dance party. Who couldn’t?