Over the Hills and Far Away

I must have music playing while working. So, I have a classic rock radio station streaming online from my computer. Today, the song "Over the Hills and Far Away" by Led Zeppelin (in case you weren't sure) came on. It is, without a doubt, one of my favorite Zeppelin songs. Now, I probably hear that song every other day at work, but today I paused for a bit while it played. It was at the part when Jimmy Page's (love him so much) solo began. I can't describe the solo in words, but it instantly transported me back to when I was 15.

My cousin and I had just discovered classic rock and although I can't speak for her, my mind was blown away with all this "new" music I was hearing. Modern rock radio at that time had kind of turned to crap. I've mentioned before how much I hate hair metal. Well, we were in the midst of that, and I'd had enough. Nirvana hadn't become known in my dinky town yet, so I was at a particular musical juncture. Now, my dad loves music like I do, so I'd already been exposed to music from the 60's and 70's. I had lived and breathed The Doors for about a year and half, so I was stoked to find a radio station that played them...and so many others. It was revolutionary in my small-time existence. I was hooked.

Once particular band my cousin and I took to immediately was Led Zeppelin. "Good Times Bad Times", "Dancing Days", "Houses of the Holy", and "Over the Hills and Far Away" would be sung loudly while we cruised around town. I lived and breathed the lyrics, notes, and melodies.

"Over the Hills" holds a particular place in my heart though, because I have a couple of clear memories of that song playing when I was 15. When I hear it, I see myself in my adolescence so clearly, as if I'm truly reliving it. Driving somewhere with my boyfriend at the time, so happy to have a bit of freedom with him even if it only lasted for a couple of hours, and that song playing in the background. To me, it was heaven. Actually, when I think about it now, it still kind of is. Not that he has to be part of it here in the present; I'm long past such feelings for him. But, I feel driving around and listening to music is, to me, heaven on earth. There is really nothing that makes me feel more content.

But, hearing those songs for the first time was incredible. It was like someone had finally turned on a light to a path that I had to travel. And, I haven't looked back. I know I make classic rock sound mythical, but to me it is. It opened my eyes completely to how music should be. And, since I was experiencing new music and first love all at once, it was magical to me. The two are ingrained in my memories together completely. I hear these songs play, and I think back to how simple life was then. When all I pretty much existed for was a good tune, someone who I enjoyed spending time with, and maybe a few beers here and there. :) And, "Over the Hills" is a song that conveys those emotions I had perfectly.

I don't think I would ever want to be 15 again. But, every now and then I don't mind reliving and remembering just how carefree and crazy I was. It was beautiful, and I miss it sometimes. Thank god for the songs that can take me back, even if it is just only for a minute or two.

You Were Meant For Me (And I Was Meant For You)

As I was driving to work today I saw something that made me smile: A pair of ducks on the water. Now, you may ask why something like this would put a smile upon my face. I'm not a duck enthusiast or anything of the sort. I can take them or leave them as far as the animal world goes. But, a duck pairing is truly something special. Something to be emulated.

Did you know that when ducks mate, they mate for life?

It's such a simple concept, yet the depth of it is astounding to me. One partner. For life. Wouldn't the human race benefit from something like that? Which lead to a different question for me: Why weren't all animals created equal?

It's a question I can't answer, nor do I think I want to try. But, what if people were like that, though? What if humans had the ability to fall in love only one time and were able to spend the rest of their life with just one person without ever knowing the want or need of looking for love elsewhere. That you were mated for life. Hmmm.

Anyone who has ever been in love or, if not, seen love in a movie or heard about it in a song can tell you how powerful a force it truly is. It can render all your senses useless in a good way. You eat, drink, and sleep the other person. It's a heady experience, to put it lightly. Why, then, is it so easy to fall out of love? It happens every day with breakups, divorces, court proceedings. Why is love so fickle? Why can't people want to be with the their first love for life?

I suppose it's just the nature of the beast. Humans are ruled by their emotions. Ducks, I'm guessing, are probably not emotional creatures, save Daffy and Donald. They mate to perpetuate the species. Humans let their feelings guide their way, and sometimes they stumble and fall. And sometimes they breezily finish the marathon, though rarely. Love is not a static thing. It ebbs and flows, the same as all other human emotions.

Sometimes love is permanent, sometimes it lasts a week. No one can define for another person the love they should and should not feel. It's different for every person. But, I still think the duck concept is a nice one. One couple together, forever, with death being the only thing eventually tearing them apart.

On that cheery note, I'll leave you with something that made me cry the first time I heard about it. Not only do ducks mate for life, but something happens when one in the pair disappears. If one in the duck pair dies or is killed, the other will swim around and around searching for their lost mate. It's as if the whole course of their existence has been thrown off, and they cannot function as a singular being. They are lost. It's tragic and beautiful all at the same time.

Musings

After my daughter, the most beautiful thing I've ever seen is Jimmy Page playing guitar at Madison Square Garden in 1973. I wish I could have seen it in person.

Watching an eagle fly purely for its own enjoyment is truly magnificent and awe-inspiring.

Seeing the Eagles perform "Hotel California" in person was almost a religious experience for me.

True happiness is getting a hug and a kiss from my daughter.

People who are judgmental of others should take a close look in a mirror. Then, take a second look.

You can call Mother Nature all kinds of names with all kinds of threats, but she'll still best you in the end.

And, she has a sadistic sense of humor at times.

The more anxious you are for something to happen, the longer it takes to actually happen.

I could and probably will read "Twilight" over and over and never tire of it. Nor will I ever tire of Edward Cullen. Vampire or not, he's still the finest and most romantic hero of any story I've ever read.

On that same note, I think it would be cool to be a vampire. I'm not interested in drinking blood, but immortality would suit me just fine. I fear death. The kick-ass strength and speed would be pretty awesome too.

Again on that same note, I believe I'm finally going through a teenage girl obsession with "Twilight" and everything to do with it. I was never a normal teenage girl. Just like I'm not a normal adult female.

If you ever want to witness pure stupidity, drive on the highway after it's been covered with frozen rain and snow. There will always be some idiot in a 4-wheel drive vehicle driving along like it's the middle of summer. That is a North Dakota guarantee.

Many people lament the failings of small town businesses due to larger retail stores in larger towns. These same people rarely shop at the small town businesses.

If you ever want to see humanity at its best and an example of steadfast resolve, give the people of North Dakota a disaster to get through. They prove me right time and time again.

Watching the F-M Acro Team perform to the theme from "Rocky" makes me cry every time.

I feel sorry for people with no sense of humor. A life without silly joy has to be a miserable existence.

I also feel sorry for people without music in their life. Few things in life give me pure joy, but music is one of the few.

When I listen to Jim Morrison sing, I wish I could take his voice and wrap it around me like a blanket.

I'll stop with these for now, there will always be more odd thoughts that flit through my mind.

It Is What It Is

Let me start this off by saying that I'm sorry. I didn't mean for yesterday's entry to be so depressing. Well, that's not entirely honest. It's true that I was feeling that way yesterday, and I often do feel like that. But, I'm sorry to have dragged you down with me. I am a very emotional person, if you couldn't tell. Some days I feel so happy I could fly, and then there were days like yesterday. I think it all depends on how much sleep I get, and, as you know, that isn't something I achieve quite regularly. I debated about erasing the entry but then decided that wasn't something I wanted to do. For, no matter how embarrassed I am about something I have written, it was the truth. If I can't be brutally honest with myself, who can I be honest with? So, it shall remain.

I always knew writing out my feelings would tame whatever emotional upheaval was going on within me. I haven't done it for a long time though. Writing by hand is torture for me. I write very slowly, gripping the pen as tight as I can, until my hand burns like fire and becomes a deformed claw. If I try to continue my hand begins to shake, rendering the letters I'm trying to write virtually unrecognizable. So, until now, I've laid aside the written word choosing instead to keep my feelings bottled up inside of me. It hasn't been the best trade-off, which is why I decided to start this particular blog.

Good or bad, pretty or ugly, these are my words.

A Life Unfulfilled

(A note before this post: I'm not exactly as miserable as this post is going to make me out to be. But, I want to be as brutally honest about my feelings as I feel them. So, if you don't want to be bummed out, don't read. It's a bit of a downer.)

Ah, yes. It's that old feeling again. I can't exactly put a name on it, but I suppose angst, longing, unhappiness, unfulfillment, or dissatisfaction would come close to an apt description. I often wonder how I got here. What turn should I have taken and when should I have taken it? What could I have done differently?

Most times I am perfectly happy with my life as it stands. I love my husband and daughter. I have family close by. It's not perfect, but things are pretty good.

But, always in the back of my mind is the thought that I'm meant to have a different life. I am not supposed to live here, work at the job that I do, live the life I live. I wake up every morning with the knowledge that time is moving way too fast, and I feel that there is something more for me out there. But, what? And, that's the question I cannot answer. I do not know.

When I was younger, I had a pretty clear idea of what I wanted out of life. I knew that I was going to leave North Dakota, get a job at a magazine or a publishing company, make good money, and marry my best friend (whoever that would be). I would final travel to Italy, make photography my hobby, and own my dream home. Dreams. How simple life seems when it's viewed from an 18-year old's perspective. Sadly, that's all they remain: dreams.

Reality can be harsh. It will silently bear down on you with the force of an 18-wheeler, hitting you when you're weakest, and throwing you to the side of the road. You were prepared enough to have your proverbial seatbelt fastened, but your airbag has exploded in your face as a final insult to let you know that unhappiness will hit you when you least expect it. And, there you are bruised and sore, but essentially unhurt. You move on with life as it is, but the bruises are a reminder that somewhere along the road, you were blown off track, and you may not be as content as you thought you were.

I know I shouldn't complain. As things go, I've got a good life. I have family, friends, a roof over my head, food to eat, my health. I should want for nothing as I have more than many do. I am human, though, and more than a touch selfish. I want more. I want the days where I laughed freely and often, when I woke up in the morning and looked foward to the day instead of dreading it, when I had people I could confide in, when I felt worthy of something. Each day passes a bit too similar to the day before, and I now find myself lost in time, knowing the date on the calendar but not knowing where I am, timewise, in my life. I'm lost, and there is no map I can consult to find out where I should be.

I guess I'm just tired. I'm tired of the obligation of going to work instead of the desire. I'm tired of forced, banal, everyday chit-chat instead of a real, in-depth conversation. I'm tired of faking chuckles to sub-par humor instead of laughing gigantic belly laughs to something I truly find funny. I'm tired of putting on a happy face to life as it is instead of smiling with joy due to a life of complete satisfaction. I'm tired of existing instead of living. I want nothing more to be happy, truly happy.

Oh, who am I to whine and complain anyhow? I shouldn't. Perhaps I need to reverse my thinking and enjoy what I truly do have. I can do that. Right? Honestly, I don't know. I've never been a cup's half-full kind of person. I'm a cynic and a skeptic. If I was into new-age philosophy, I would only have to look inside myself to find happiness. Sure, sure. The thing I've been looking for has been in front of me all along, look no farther than your own front door, and all that crap. Sorry, but that's not me.

And, so it goes...

I believe the future is nothing but a pile of clay. You can manipulate into what form you want it to take and change it as you go. Be careful before deciding on its final incarnation, though. It may not turn out to be the result you were hoping to achieve, and you'll be left with nothing but an misshapen bowl waiting to be filled with regret.

Smells Like Teen Spirit

I had a shocking thought today. I was driving into Lisbon for a meeting and had my iPod going. The song that came on was Nirvana singing "The Man Who Sold the World". I love that song, the guitar is so perfect with the mood of the song. The final guitar solo is like a cry, it almost breaks my heart (I like depressing songs, but I'll talk about that some other time). As I was listening, I did a little math in my head and realized that this spring Kurt Cobain will have been gone for 15 years. But, that wasn't the shocking thought. What shocked me was that high school seniors today were only 3 years old when he died. What?!?

Back in my day (how old do I sound now?), Nirvana was like the second coming. A little music history, if you will: Towards the late Eighty's, heavy metal was king on the radio. Hair bands. Think lots of hairspray and spandex. On men. I shudder now as I think of it. Now I'm not going to be so arrogant in my music preferences to say that I didn't listen to some of it. I loved Guns and Roses, and the occasional Whitesnake song didn't bother me too much. But, basically, it sucked.

At my high school, punk and alternative (I'm not sure if it was called that yet) music was the music of choice. The heavy metal genre was not really appreciated. And, I liked these bands just as much as the rest of my high school. The bands that we listened to on school bus trips were bands like The Pixies, 7 Seconds, The Violent Femmes, etc. We were the "weird" school. I was even told that one high school, who shall remain nameless, had a "Milnor" day during their homecoming week, where the kids dressed like the guys in our school. With mohawks and what they deemed were funny-looking clothes. As a side note: The joke is on them. How lame are they when their attempt to make fun of us makes them look even more pathetic than they already were? Wow, I guess I still dislike them as much now as I did then. Interesting.

Anyhow, around 1992, the music world was turned on its head. With the few chords of the opening guitar of "Smells Like Teen Spirit", heavy metal was left in the dust. The music was hard-edged and loud, but the angst and despair in the words were something new. The members of Nirvana dressed just like the guys in my high school, ragged jeans, t-shirts, flannel shirts, Chuck Taylor Converse All-stars. Their hair was long, but without one trace of hairspray. It made the hair bands' songs about sex and women, their spandex and hair-sprayed 'dos, everything about them look totally ridiculous. Those opening guitar chords were the death knell of hair bands. My school wasn't sorry to see them go.

As with every music genre, once the big one hits, aftershocks are soon to follow. Nirvana firmly established itself as the "band" of the alternative scene. Since they were out of Seattle, many bands from the city were suddenly given their chance; Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, Screaming Trees. It was a good time.

Then, in the spring of 1994, the music world was shocked to learn of Kurt Cobain's suicide. I remember where I was when I heard the news. I suppose it was my generation's Kennedy or Lennon moment. I'm sure people wondered what would have made him do it, Nirvana were still the best of the best, and he had a wife and daughter. But, he was also holding a whole generation of music fans on his fragile shoulders. Not an easy task for anyone, and especially for someone like him. He had never asked to be the voice of a music generation, so he silenced his. Life can be just too hard.

So, it saddens me now that high school kids these days don't have a memory of a living Kurt Cobain, that Nirvana's music is probably considered old. I really don't know what kids are listening to these days. I've heard some of it, and I am thoroughly unimpressed. To be brutally honest, most of it is crap. Between the hip-hop and pop crap, there are a few bands and songs that are worth listening too. Not many though.

So, why did I write this? Because I'm getting older? Maybe. Because kids these days don't really know what good music is or what it could be? Possibly. I think I just wrote it because I'm still sad that Kurt Cobain is gone, that the music he could have created won't be heard, that his music still touches a nerve inside me.

15 years almost...what was and what never will be. How sad.