January 10, 2010

Some preparation of classes yesterday, some typing on the Symposium. Much hanging out with Jason. Much resenting the bitter and imperishable cold. We spent yesterday evening sharing favorite songs online. “So, the greatest rock performance by a woman”. . ., “the creepiest cover:. . . , “. . . “The first song that made you cry. . . "

A theme of my youth was longing for the sound of favorite songs, and fear that I would forget them and lose the beauty of a moment. One had to wait to hear them randomly on the radio. Actually going out and buying the records was never a live option in our house. In any case, the internet redresses all that. There wasn’t a song we wanted to hear that was not available. This still is wonderful to me. I notice a difference between us in this, that I take to be generational. I like songs because I liked them for themselves, or very occasionally because of some exterior association. Jason, and most of my students, use music as a soundtrack, as a marker of their lives. They listen not to a tune, but relive a moment aurally. Part of this is because they do not step out of bed without earphones in their ears, and are thus perpetually immersed. Most of the soundtrack of my life would be silence, or the ambient sounds of the world around me.

J now combing Craig’s List for jobs in Johnson City. I want to play, but he is hard at work, so I slink away and type.