Sep 08

these are days

recently i rediscovered the music of my youth.
it's really a strange sensation to listen to a song or an album after fourteen years and know every single word, be able to whistle the tune without even thinking, but a good one at that. 
by the music of my youth i don't mean the pop music of the early 2000's, the stuff that came out when i was at that crucial stage of development. what i'm talking about is the music my parents were listening to through our only CD player at the time, the one in the library, inside of the blocky old Dell computer sitting atop a stack of L.L.. Bean Christmas catalogs older than me. 
when i was young, we laid an extra mattress in the library. after dinner on summer nights, when it was 7:30 and still bright as noon, we would pile atop the bare mattress and listen to music while the screen saver on the computer floated and danced across the screen.
the picture in my mind is so vivid, but in reality it's so far from today. the Dell hasn't been used since i was in about fifth grade, when i would sit playing games like Minesweeper and Solitaire, because our internet was dial-up and slow, and maybe my mom was on the phone, and those games came pre-loaded. 
now there's not even a chair at the computer. the desk is piled with papers, and the mattress is replaced with a futon in the winter and a trunk in the summer. under the desk where i would sit and write stories in fun fonts sit tens of cassette tapes that will soon be entirely obsolete. 
i think i'm a lot like my dad in the sense that i don't like change. however, there's not really a good way to prevent it when you're moving into the digital age and high school and a new sport and a new group of friends and everything is different. 
earlier this year, my mom and i were in the store, and she headed to the tech section. she was picking up a cordless landline, because my dad was home with a broken foot and couldn't get up fast enough to pick up one of our rotary phones. 
as silly as it is, i felt such a sense of betrayal for our phones and this absolute disgust for a new phone. our phones are perfectly fine! they don't need to be replaced. 
i'm scared of moving forward, but it's also constantly in my mind. there isn't a second that passes where i'm not thinking; what could happen? not what is happening at this very moment. 
i think that's part of the reason i enjoy this old music so much. of course, it reminds me of an easier, more peaceful time. but it's also, in a sense, keeping me from falling too far into a pit of obsession about the future. if i can remember the past and how much i miss it, maybe it'll remind how sometime very soon today will be the past. 
i'm worried that someday i'll have listened to these same three albums too many times, that they will become annoying, only a passing faze, ha, look at what she listened to back then. i hope not.
i'd like to go back to the days of endless summer and endless music and shifting colors and warmth and happiness and love and peace and carefree existence and no judgment and time to spare. i'd like to go back to the past. 

i'd also like you to know i was listening to those very three albums as i wrote this. there is nothing better than this music, but i can never know if it's truly the music that's great or if it's the memories. either way.