So, sometimes I associate songs with someone I know. Certain songs either (a) are sung/played in such a way so as to be instantly linked in my mind with a certain friend or relative's attitude toward the world (or, conversely, my attitude toward them), or (b) have substantive lyrics that describe (literally or figuratively) a certain person's situation so as to do one of the two things of (a) -- either express their attitude toward the world or mine toward them.
Does this happen to you?
It doesn't happen so often to me, but maybe for four or five people, I have definite songs. They don't have to be super close to me. Some of them mere acquaintances, but something struck me about them in a way that could be nicely linked up with a song. There's something almost involuntary about it. Deep-seated. This always happens to me long after I first heard the song and liked it. Suddenly I'll meet a person who matches that song perfectly, and from that day forward, the song is associated with them, even though I first heard it and had an affection for it much prior to that.
I won't tell you the people, but here are the songs that I have linked to individuals:
1) Pavement -- Shady Lane
2) Paul Simon -- I Know What I Know
3) Wilco -- I'm the Man That Loves You
4) Wilco (again) -- Poor Places
5) Paul Simon (again) -- Kodachrome
6) Beck -- Lost Cause
Now, there are other songs/artists I associate with people because I listened to that song with them, or I know they love that song, or something. But these are a few instances where my identification of the person with the song has nothing to do with whether they like or even have ever heard the song. I independently arrived at an identification of the person with the song, so that now, whenever I hear it, I think of that person. Also, now that I think of it, this only happens with dudes! I have no lady-specific songs.
Maybe the fact that Wilco and an un-Garfunkeled Paul Simon shows up twice says more about me than anyone I know, but there you have it. How's about you?
posted by Reen |link| 0 comments
The side-windows of the 1978 Ford Ranchero are trapezoidal in nature. To wit:
posted by Reen |link| 1 comments
Oh, how I love Hark, A Vagrant. The continuing series of comics based on novels whose covers were designed by Edward Gorey pleases me. Also see: Tesla, the Celibate Scientist and Party Times With Richard III.
Earworms of the Week: The Macarena, You Can't Hurry Love, Bungalow Bill (which I always thought was Buffalo Bill when I was a kid. I mean, Bungalow Bill? Who gets nicknamed for a small, rural cottage?)
Yesterday, I bought seeds. But not tomato seeds. I have given up on my grand tomato-raising plans, as it is inevitable that I will be frustrated by squirrels. Instead I have decided to focus on turning our back balcony into a flowering bower of awesome. That also produces beans.
To this end, I have purchased packets of seeds for two types of runner/pole beans that are supposed to have crazy flowers and do well in hot, humid climates, as well as a packet of sweet pea seeds.
I also bought two packets of kooky heirloom watermelon seeds, which I plan to unleash on Ryan's backyard. I'd like to see a squirrel carry off a 15-lb watermelon, I tell you what.
posted by Reen |link| 0 comments
A new installment of the hypothetical library invites you to learn what really happened.
Birds LLC is live and offering a $20 pre-order special on its first two books, Elisa Gabbert's The French Exit and Chris Tonelli's The Trees Around.
More people are signing up for NaPoWriMo. Will you be one?
Also, as a reminder, Big Game Books is accepting queries regarding full-length poetry manuscripts through the end of this month.
Finally, it is actually turning into spring. I did not have to wear a hat to walk to the subway today. Hatless! And without hat-hair. Glorious. Also, I braised a five-pound brisket on Saturday. This means my house is awash in meat.
posted by Reen |link| 0 comments
