The song in my heart...

Music makes the world go round. As many of you will agree, at some point in your late teens early twenties you just get off the music train and that's your music for life. (The same thing tends to happen with fashion and hair, but I encourage you to fight to stay on the train as long as you can!) Not that I don't listen to modern music. I try to keep up with the new artists, but you really only have the luxury of spending half your annual income on "records" when you are quite young. (After which you have to pay rent and crap.) My style is complicated, but only because I graduated high school in 1995...a mid-decade train-stop.

Everybody tends to group music into decades, you know, like the 50's, 60's, 70's and so on. But I think that is a bogus grouping. I feel music should be grouped on the mid-decade. For example, 1955-1965 is mostly dance-party/leader of the pack, 1965-1975 is angry war anthems/age of Aquarius, 1975-1985 is disco/KISS, etc. For that reason, my "style" lands somewhere between "hair bands" and alternative rock. I love 'em both, and have "Slippery When Wet" and "Smells Like Teen Spirit" in my collection.

The funny thing was, the husband is also a "hair band" guy, but we have found that our definition differs greatly! This separation reminds me of my next door neighbor and good friend when I was in high school. He always carried two mixed tapes with him at all times, one labeled "F***ing Kick A** Music" and the other labeled "Mega Wimpy Ballads". This glaring difference in hair band music defines the difference in the husband's music taste and mine. We thought we liked the same kind of music, and that is wrong. We liked the same bands. He is "Welcome to the Jungle" and I am "November Rain". (Although, we each appreciate the other songs) He is "Rock you Like a Hurricane" and I am "Winds of Change". I laughed because he will talk about bands I've never heard of, like Ratt, Loverboy and others. And I love bands like Warrant, Firehouse, Poison and dare I say it out loud, Mr. Bigg. (Stop laughing! "I'm the one who wants to be with you" spoke to me!) Pretty much all the songs that were played at my 7th grade dances, I loved! And I never bothered to listen to the "other" songs by those artists. Skid Row's "I remember you" was my break-up anthem. (Until I discovered Alanis Morrisette!)

Yes, I did graduate to "grunge". I still have my combat boots and plaid button-ups in the back of my closet! (My kids are going to celebrate 90's day during their homecoming week!) The Counting Crows was the first CD I purchased. I can sing along with Pearl Jam and Nirvana. (As well as anyone can. Were there even lyrics to those songs?) A crazy-afro-white boy friend of mine figured out what "Champagne Supernova" meant, but he forgot after he sobered up. Alanis and Jewel came at the time of my life when I was floundering, so their angry/painful lyrics will always remind me of that time.

I suppose that's what it's supposed to do. "More Than Words" reminds me of my 8th grade boyfriend, the first boy I ever kissed. "You Oughta Know" reminds me of my college boyfriend who cheated on me. That was the "coolest" I'll ever be, and I'm glad I'll always have the music to remind me.

But lest we thing we "own" our music, I'll never forget the day my step-son wanted to play a CD of this great new song by a "cool new band". The band was Aerosmith. I laughed, and could only recall the day I wanted to play a cassette for my parents, the same "new" band back in 1988. I'm sure they laughed as well, and couldn't help but think of the first time they listened to a record by Aerosmith in their own "music prime". There are some things that speak to us, across the generations.

And I really miss the obvious love ballads, if for no other reason than I don't want that old, stiff-armed sway dance to disappear! (That old six inches of separation rule is sounding better and better as my kids are getting older!) And the whole thing might boil down to the fact that "I Wanna Know What Love Is".

Pomp and Circumstance

Well, I've finally made it! It only took me five years! (Plus 8, if you count all those years between high school) I graduated on Sat. May 3rd, and it came just in time to keep me from jumping off a bridge or something! Here is a photo, and please note the bottles in the foreground. Every graduation party should have this as the foreground for pictures. (BTW, that's me in the gown, with my folks, the husband and my angel)

The ceremony was long...at least for me. My high school graduating class consisted of a whole 44 people, so I just wasn't used to a ceremony of this magnitude. (Although, the more people I complain to, the more people tell me that my 2 hour ceremony was nothing, and that they have attended graduation ceremonies that lasted all day and into the night where everyone just slept in their chairs and finished up in the morning. I hope that was an exaggeration.) Anyway, I graduated Magna Cum Laude with a BS in Mathematics and minors in Physics and Statistics. I was also awarded the 2008 Outstanding Graduating Student in Mathematics. To accept this award, I attended the Convocation, where I bumped into an old classmate of mine who's husband (also a classmate, who I'm going to call "The Joker") was getting the Outstanding Blah Blah in History award. This was great, as our tiny hometown was well represented at this award ceremony. But you know who I really wish could have been there? My high school Geography teacher. This is a woman who once accused me of cheating, because I was failing her class and at the last minute pulled a 98% final out of my kiester. (Her comment was that she would accuse me of cheating off of my best friends, co-valedictorians and sitting right next to me, except that my score was higher than theirs. It never occurred to her that the reason I was failing was because I didn't turn in any homework, not that I didn't understand the subject.)

This teacher also had run-ins with The Joker while we were in high school. One winter's day we were sitting in the pizza-oven that was our Geography classroom, (the heating/cooling system in that school was ridiculous) our teacher was diligently writing who-knows-what up on the board, droning on and on about India or something. The Joker (who sat behind me) took this opportunity while her back was turned to sneak out the window that was wide open to help alleviate the oppressive heat. He returned seconds later with a gigantic icicle, the size of my leg! (and I'm 5'9") These icicles consistently grew along the gutters of the school, waiting patiently to impale some unsuspecting student who was foolish enough to try to enter or exit the building. The Joker silently placed the icicle next to the teachers desk and returned to his seat as the rest of us struggled to contain our laughter. The teacher reached for something on her desk and was startled by the large shaft of ice leaning against it. The class erupted with hilarity, except The Joker, who was studiously taking notes. She didn't have to wonder who was responsible.

For those reasons, I think she may have enjoyed hearing our college professors go on and on about how studious we both are and how we are such an example to other students. (It was so hard for me to keep a straight face!) The Joker's plan is to be a History teacher. Now if the Mother's Curse ("I hope your kids act just like you do!") works for old teachers as well, then he's got his work cut out for him! (Although, it'll be really hard to top the icicle thing!)