before our latest excursion to SF, i cleaned off my old iPod shuffle playlist and opted for some nonconventional tunes that normally don’t get much air time these days. i happened to finish my compilation right at 100 songs, all by different artists, save for two songs each from michael jackson and no doubt.
only making it through the list once during our trip, i’ve continued to listen to this lineup on the bus to and from work this week. and today, a nostalgic chord struck when a particular tune hit my ears. the song, “life in a northern town.” the artist, dream academy. well, this version is revamped a bit*, eurotrash style. and that is exactly where i heard it first, circa fall 1998. ok, not exactly europe—but let it be known that year europe did open my ears to cher’s i believe and the vengaboys’ legendary hit we like to party.
the place was london, england, during the last week or so of my semester abroad at regent’s college in regent’s park. (i honestly hope someday one of my long-lost classmates from that semester googles some portion of that sentence and finds me. because 1) i can’t find anyone nor do i remember many names and 2) it honestly would be a nice surprise to hear from a random voice from days gone by.)
the day i heard this odd techno-esque version of “northern town” was a peculiar day all around. or at least, a quirky lunch hour in the cafeteria. we arrived to see a bit of caribbean flare, decorations, food, and a man in a clawfoot bathtub filled with baked beans. this isn’t some acid trip gone awry, friends, because i’ve never touched the stuff. a synthesized dream academy wailing in the background, the man who served me slices of pizza the last 16 weeks is now topless (naked?) in a tub full of beans. and you better believe he donned a shower cap and had a back brush in hand to complete the look.
why baked beans? why the caribbean theme? in london? why dream academy? seriously, did some college administrators hit the pub a bit early that day when thinking of ways to send off that semester’s students? (the pub was literally across the hall from the cafeteria, which made imbibing for happy hour quite convenient.) whatever the occasion, and maybe i knew at the time and it made complete sense, but it obviously made an impression on me.
such an impression in fact, that i giggled to myself on the bus. and then when i realized that i never told the tale to the boy, i knew that gem had to be busted out with the accompanyment of dream academy. i imagine i told the story with more charisma then words can describe here since i added in side stories about the cafeteria workers competing for all the girls’ affections (baked bean guy called us “dahling,” his friend called us “baby”), and i even opened a drawer to find a compilation disc i made for myself and my travel companion consisting of songs from those 5 months.
these are memories that i’ve carried with me for nearly 10 years, and surely i hope to not soon forget.
*what little research i did, led me to find that a person/group by the name of dario g remixed the original song. and after listening to it again, i realized they added steel drums only reinforcing that caribbean thing. bitchin’!
22 February 2008
neither of us were truly tired, i think the slight humidity in the air made it a tad uncomfortable for sleeping. but thinking air conditioning was unwarranted, we grinned and bore it, tossed around, talked, giggled, and reminisced.
something we spoke of triggered a memory from my childhood, my days in music class with mr. asbury. we were learning how to read music, being introduced to the note structure for the first time.
whole notes, half notes, quarter notes, and then eighth notes! so much to embrace as a 3rd grader! we were given recorders and expected to memorize jingle bells and up on the housetop for the christmas concert. man, we had it rough.
but even before we could begin actually playing notes and memorizing our parts, we had to know what it all meant. what were these black dots strewn across five lines? some had dots. some had flags. some were strung together. and what in the world was that 4/4 at the beginning? wtf!
and thus began the chanting of TA-TA-TA-TA. TA-A, TA-A. TEE-TEE-TEE-TEE-TA, TEE-TEE-TEE-TEE-TA. that was our illustration for how long each note was to be held.
even as 3rd graders, we giggled at the ridiculous monotone sounds that came from our wee little voices. but i have to hand it to mr. asbury, the method must have worked considering that some 22 years later, i remember vividly the preparation of our musical learnings.
i later went on to play clarinet and win numerous first place awards at the illinois state music competitions. not too shabby. though i do regret to some degree that i didn’t continue in high school. it wasn’t that band wasn’t cool, because in fact, it was highly regarded. i just literally couldn’t squeeze it into my busy schedule.
but hey, at least i still have my TA-TAs. :)
05 September 2007
remember those days of adolescence when you pined for the summer? perhaps my memory isn’t serving me well these days, but i vaguely recall enjoying my school days. but i enjoyed the in-between months far more. crappy minimum wage jobs where goofing off was a given. staying out late, mandatory stops at denny’s and whatever other random events that teenagers in rural america find themselves getting into.
now, i don’t consider myself old under any circumstances, but when i look back at times that were much less structured, i miss it. and it’s odd really, knowing that i have more money in my pocket, a bigger city to play in and no true rules to abide by. and i wonder, have i lost my sense of spontaneity? i do know that my sense of practicality has taken a step forward with each passing year. but at what cost?
i sit here, about 45 minutes before my “bedtime” regretting that maybe my weekends aren’t as productive or adventurous as they could be. knowing that at 6:30 am, i’ll be back in the week’s grind, sitting at a desk, dealing with counterparts at a job that i enjoy some days, find a nuisance others. and realizing that the only upcoming event that i’m anxiously awaiting is my wedding/vacation. granted, it’s a long-awaited event that deserves the attached excitement, but then what? a 4-day weekend in seattle later in the fall? then christmas? and boom. the year is over.
when did our lives revolve around short bursts of playtime when we agonize over everything else around it? or maybe it’s just me.
i’ve been struggling with the notion of corporate/office life as of late. admittedly, i’m envious of the boy’s lot in life, and we’ve discussed it in length. he does what he loves, is damn good at it and can do it from the comfort of our home in his boxers, if he so chooses.
at the age of 22, i told myself i didn’t want to work in an office. and 8 years later, i’m reminding myself of that everyday i bike to work downtown. something’s gotta give. something’s gotta change. yet i reflect on what i’ve “achieved” financially – i’m not living the good life by any means, but i’m comfortable. to give it all up and start anew. do i have it in me?
of course, there is something to be said of my creativity when i was broke. i wrote more, i photographed more, i even dabbled in painting and ceramics. hell, i even left the country more. fascinating, isn’t it?
obviously, i survived. and came away with some entertaining stories. and i’ve learned some new skills along the way as i wander in out and out of jobs. but the one thing i have yet to figure out is how to work a job that doesn’t feel like such. how do i take what i know and apply it to stuff that matters, to things i enjoy?
naz told me not too long ago that he would love for me to come home and talk up my job. tell him tales of things i labored on that i truly found comfort in. sadly, this hasn’t happened yet, and even more sadly, it won’t until i do something about it. to stop being complacent. to make a jump. to be scared again. to not know. and then those survival skills will poke their wayward head in again.
but for now, i’ll listen to my life’s current anthem from arcade fire, “antichrist television blues,” where the opening line fittingly is “i don’t want to work in a building downtown.”
08 July 2007
