they write the songs

    so, i’m a lover of music.   i spend a good deal of time at home alone. i LOVE to play the tunes at a volume that is just below where it makes your desk vibrate.  it gets hard to write like a grown-up when your pen is bouncing all over the desk.  you see, i think music is the greatest drug.  only in the way that it has the ability to sway your mood and control your thoughts.  nothing can cause a flash bulb memory more than a song from your past.  i think because i always have music playing, and alway have, that my life story is one of those movies that i have heard you can make on a mac, with a sound track.  in my head songs or singers belong to people i have known.  for my cousin M it’s helen reddy.  the two of us running around her living room singing i am woman and blue at the top of our lungs.  i can not hear our house by crosby stills nash and young and not think of my sibs and parents.  the six of us suddenly all acting as one as we sing along with the group in the car.  prince and purple rain belong to AL.  we must have watched that movie on laser disk 1000 times.  looking back on it at 13 it was wildly inappropriate, but i think it was more about the music for us.  although i do still know the script by hear.  “you should come to my house.  i have a brass water bed.  i’ll cook you skaskatshwon or something like that.”  even though barry manilow didn’t really ring my bell i can’t think of him without thinking of LHB because he meant so much to her. i can still see her looking at herself in her mirror beside her white trundle bed singing along with barry.  “i feel sad when you’re sad…”.  there is some music that i still can’t listen to because of the heart ache it takes me back to.  the thing about me and music is, i couldn’t begin to guess what will move me.  i don’t even know that i could describe what a good song sounds like.  i know what it feels like, a cross between getting the air knocked out of you and knowing you’re home. i like all kinds of music ALL kinds.  most times there is a song playing in my head.  i remember being a kid with bach busting my eardrums in bed at night. you remember how you used to tape songs from the radio?  i was never very good at and would often accidently push record on a song i love so that there would be pockets of dead air.  in my head those songs still play with the catch of the dj’s voice at the beginning. and i couldn’t tell you what the words are that i recorded over because in my head, the song never had them.  i’m always surprised when people don’t feel the same way about a song as i do.  it’s strange how something can bring one person to their knees and lave another with the ability to walk on by.  see even that sentence made me think of a lyric…walk on by, foolish pride, you’re all that i have left so let me hide…..thanks dion warwick.

music is magic!  sometimes i have let a song speak for me.  believe me if anything can leave me speechless it would have to be music.

if i have loved you, you have a song.


6 responses to “they write the songs”

  1. Kelly T

    I can’t hear Blondie’s “Rapture” without thinking of you, me, some Boone’s Farm, some cards……..

    I hope “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy” reminds you of me :)

  2. EH Shuba

    me too! of course you ARE rod stewart in my head.  in fact i wrote a couple of lines to that affect and the deleted them, weird.

  3. Jill D

    I want to know what happens in your house when you are listening to music and one of your lovely family members comes into the room and changes it. Or do they just know better? Also, I think you should start an advice column… Dear Holy Bedazzler… I think your advice could help many.

  4. EH Shuba

    well jillijill, the volume has been changed, NEVER the song.  i don’t know if i would trust anyone who would take my advice

  5. JEM

    can i get an AMEN!

  6. EH Shuba

    what a gem you ARE

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