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A dear friend taught me that I’m not the only one who listens to all kinds of music and cares about it. I also learned that the lyrics are the poetry of the day and even more important than the melody sometimes. To this day, when I listen to a song, it puts me back in a specific place in time and a specific mood. For instance (thanks Nutsie for the links

• Fort Minor’s Where’d You Go. Melbourne for a run along the Yarra River feeling super sad, but enjoying the cold on my back, the Nike Free runners and the pounding music.
• Flo Rida’s Low. Flying down I-5 with the radio at max coming back from the airport and through the rain for a pickup.
• Cyndi Lauper’s Time after Time. On the floor, in pain, wondering what the future would bring. Acoustic with Sarah McLachlan.
• Dixie Chick’s Not Ready to Make Nice. Doing 150kph in Wyoming just trying to get out of there. Radar detector chirping, Tetons to my right, Buffalo everywhere. Mazda’s 2.4 liter screaming in sixth gear.
• Cassie’s Me & U. Seat 3A on United flight 858 coming back from Shanghai
• Nickelback’s Far Away. Taking Calvin to school, seeing him sing the words, knowing he enjoys music as much as his dad :)
• Pussycat Doll’s Stickwitu. First video on my blackberry showing off to everyone how cool it is in China.

• Sarah McLachlan’s Angel. Teaching the lullaby to every small one that I know :)

  But the amazing thing is that there are songs that I haven’t listened to in years that bring back memories too:

• Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run. The poetry class for 7th graders featured this tune. Heck, it was New Jersey in the 70s
• Jerry Jeff Walker’s London Homesick Blues. Huge reel to reel tape in Mark’s loft space. Banging out shotgun rounds, shredding trees in chippers
• Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven. 16 years old, bought those EPI-100s in Holmdel. Blasting at 120 decibels. Hearing the crackle of the phonograph and the hiss of the tape.
• Blondie’s Rapture. First time I really hard rap. 4th floor Pyne Hall on a spring day
• REO Speedwagon’s Can’t Fight This Feeling. Trapped in a tiny rented basement room with moldy laundry in sophomore year trying to setup an Apple II in Chicago.
• Eagle’s Hotel California. 8-track tapes if you can believe it in a big huge red Oldsmobile 98 bouncing down a country lane.

• Jackson Browne’s Here Come Those Tears Again. A very, very, very sad summer in Los Altos Hills staring out the 3rd floor.

  Isn’t music great the way it can anchor your life