A Shorter, Short Story About Me

I briefly mentioned it in the first part of this story. Music has always been important to me. I remember as a young child, I would listen to whatever my parents enjoyed, which was mostly country music and some 80s pop. Music has a therapeutic effect on me. I tend to listen to music that resonates with me, usually, because the subject matter matches my mood.

I remember liking the country band, Alabama, and winning some sort of joke contest on the local country station when I was like 7. I remember hearing Kathy Matea’s “Where’ve You Been” in the car while we drove my dad to work. I think I was 5 when that song came out.

Once I got into elementary school, I started listening to whatever my friends liked. I grew up in a small shithole town, called Mariposa, CA. Which besides having the highest level of child abuse in California, was also about 5 years behind everyone else when it came to trends. So I didn’t really get into grunge until after Cobain killed himself. I fell in love with Bush. Alice in Chains was always great when I was depressed. Also, if anyone in Mariposa sees someone walking around with their sunglasses behind their heads, you can thank me. I started that shit after I stole the idea from someone in LA.

I was so thrilled when I finally got a walkman (portable cassette player for you young people). Staind and Everclear (and later Stabbing Westward and Evanescence) were my go to bands when I was sad… which was always. Fuck I was obsessed. There was something relaxing about realizing that the problems you face have been faced, and overcome, by others. Suddenly things didn’t feel so overwhelming. Sure my dad was a prick. So are a lot of dads. Yeah I felt alone. Everyone does. I felt trapped, but my favorite singers had gotten through it, so I could also.

Sometimes, when I’d visit my cousin, we’d stop by this photography place. They had a super small selection of cassettes there. I’d order music from the guy, since my parents wouldn’t let me listen to anything I liked. It felt so scary going against my parents like that. But I guess it was the only method I had to try to individuate.

Oh. Ska. Man, I love ska. I mean that in the present tense. The horns. The beat. It always puts me in a good mood. I remember the excitement I felt when I was visiting Seattle when I was 14 and finding a super rare album by The Hippos or listening to No Doubt while I skated. Sadly, everyone else on the planet hated ska, so it’s 15 minutes of fame died by 96.

Finally I got a CD player. God, back then, CDs were like $18. That’s why I loved Circuit City. They would sell a ton of great CDs for $10. It was awesome. The downside to CDs was that you could skip music. I often wonder how many great songs I never listened to, because I didn’t like the first few seconds of the song and skipped it.

It was a lot harder to hide CDs. It’s not like I could put them in my pocket. Luckily, this was the late 1990s/ early 2000s, so pants were baggy and pockets went down to your knees. Still, as much as I loved CDs, I was much happier when I was introduced to mp3s and piracy. I’d like to take this time to thank Metallica for first telling me that you could download music for free on the internet. Heh. The last CD I ever bought was Kid Rock’s “Devil Without a Cause”. Christ, that album sucked. I had no problem pirating all of my music from then on, because that album was so bad, I feel like RIAA owes me. Still.

As I grew older, and long after I had been home schooled, popular rock turned dark, which kind of matched my disposition. Korn, Taproot, etc. were on the radio all the time. At the same time the RapRock craze took over. Linkin Park and Frederick Durst (who by the way can kiss my ass) from Limp Bizket were on every magazine. On the plus side it got me into Hip Hop. I was more into the classics like KRS One than Jay Z.

Sound, along with smell, are great ways to trigger memories. Since I listened to music all the time, music often triggers memories for me. I had a tape with Everclear’s “So Much For the Afterglow” on one side and Foo Fighters “The Colour and the Shape” on the other. I would listen to that non stop on the long drives throughout the Central Valley. I used to run an extension cord to my tree house made from scraps of wood from my dad building our house.

Side rant. My dad didn’t help me build my tree house. On one hand, it allowed me to make it my way. On the other hand, isn’t that kind of what dads are supposed to do? Fuck I need to sue my parents.

Anyway. I’d have my boombox up in the tree house (I had carpet in my tree house. I win) and listen to the radio all day long. I was home schooled, so I had shit else to do. It’s funny. I still have those tapes. I listened to them a few years ago and it ended up being the same five or six songs over and over again.

I remember listening to Oasis’ “Wonderwall” and thinking about my first girlfriend. I remember listening to the 1995 Grammy CD in my mom’s car when we went to visit the chocolate factory. There were a lot of good memories with music and I. I remember hearing “Mechanical Animals” from Marilyn Manson for the first time, and feeling so naughty. That ended up being one of my all time favorite albums.

When I listen to songs from my childhood, I can instantly remember where I was when I heard it first. I can remember what I was doing or where I was. I can remember watching the music video for Bush’s “Comedown” for the first time, and wanting to play bass. I can remember listening to one hit wonder, Tracy Bonham’s “Mother Mother” and thinking it was a cool music video because she was in the TV screaming at her parents, who just ignored her. I remember being super suicidal, and watching Korn’s” Falling Away From Me” video for the first time. They actually had a disclaimer at the beginning, referring people like me to call helplines. To this day, every time I hear that song, I get goosebumps. I remember listening to The Dreaming’s “Let It Burn” on repeat when I finally moved away from home.

Music was always important to me. I’m not sure if it was because it was the main thing my parents kept from me, or because music is an art that touches your emotions. Anyway. I just brought this up because I was listening to Tonic’s “If You Could Only See” and I felt like rambling for a while.