Memories...like the corners of my mind...

Recently I read a post on GutRumbles that made me start thinking about a lot of things. Primarily about how much *country* I really am, but also about how we are so sure we're all unique and we are, each of us, experiencing the world with our own personal opinions, life experiences and yet...

We think we're all so very different but really in a lot of ways we aren't. In fact right there in the job description for a vital part of growing up is 'disassociate yourself from your parents' beliefs, values, and morals...' what a lot of kids miss is the fine print that says 'until you figure out for yourself that those are good beliefs, values and morals and you could have saved everyone a lot of grief if you'd just thought about it for a bit before going off on that roadtrip...'

He spoke about watching a 100 best country songs and crying on the floor at various songs. I was surprised and yet not, to find that the songs he mentioned were ones that have been known to undo me as easily as they did him, although obviously for very different reasons. How so fitting I thought afterwards, the echoes of his posts long ago written, sending forth ripples of my own song associations through my mind. That I do believe is what some people mean when they say blogging is their way of reaching out.

Boobs spoke recently of how her son is becoming someone that delights her and yet surprises her. She recounts a conversation about being 'Goth' and how even though she was she didn't know. Yet again our differences become so much definition and not so much truly differences but variations. My daughters and son surprise me at every turn, even when it's what I expect them to do, they have their own spin on it.

I listen to a station called "Classic Country" in the Dodge. Somehow it seems to fit the car :P. I find myself bellowing out the lyrics along with Johnny and Marty, Waylon, Willie and the rest of the boys, surprising myself at how well I remember the words. The intonations and feelings that accompany these jaunts down memory lane are enlightening to me. Even if they do sometimes leave me wiping my eyes when I get to where I'm going.

People often talk about a song taking them back. I understood that, even though I wasn't someone who lined up speakers like headphones and laid on the floor between them to *experience* the sound. Music is background to me. That doesn't mean it's not important, just not the be all and end all I've imagined it to be to others. I've never spent a lot of money on records, cassettes or cds, content instead to listen to the radio. I admit I taped a few songs here and there and even *gasp* bought more than one collection for a particular song.