"Music is the shorthand of emotion." -- Leo Tolstoy
I recently read a blog posting about how smells can often evoke memories far more strongly than images can. I tend to agree with this and can think of instances where a particular smell brought me almost bodily back to a particular point in time.
For example, I can remember opening a can of black shoe polish early on in OBC, which occurred two years after I had graduated from West Point since I went straight from USMA to Oxford for grad school, and instantly being transported back to the first days of Beast Barracks. It was a rush, almost surreal. It had been two years since I had had to shine any shoes and two years since I had smelled black shoe polish. Yet the first whiffs of it hurled me back through time and space to that stressful, horrific blur of some six years before.
Aside from smells, I find that songs can hurtle me back through time as well. I tend to be somewhat masochistic, I suppose, as I enjoy listening to the “Nine at Nine” on Bob FM on my way to work every day. Every morning at 9 am, this eclectic rock mix station plays nine songs from a particular year. They select the years somewhat randomly so you can skip around from the seventies to the eighties to the sixties to the nineties during any given week. I find myself hearing these songs I haven’t heard – or even thought about! – in years. And often they bring back striking memories from different points in my life. Even more strangely, I often remember the lyrics and music, even though I haven’t heard these songs for so long and am musically impaired to boot.
Some songs will bring back memories from high school or junior high, even grade school or a particular incident or even a record or CD I used to own. Others will remind me of West Point or the Army or Oxford or being married or living in a particular place at a particular time. Songs I used to dance to, songs I used to play loudly on my stereo or my car cassette or CD player. Songs I used to hear on the radio. Songs I used to hate. Songs I used to love. Songs that remind me of events I haven’t thought of in years.
This morning the number one song from June 8, 1985, was “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” by Tears for Fears. Immediately, I was transported back to May 22, 1985, a few weeks earlier than the number one song date, and the day I graduated from West Point. As I drove out Washington Gate for what I imagined would be the last time I would ever see West Point in my rear view mirror, I was playing Tears for Fears on my car stereo. When “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” came on, tears suddenly filled my eyes. My sister was sitting next to me in my gray Honda Accord, packed to the gills with all of my personal belongings, and we were driving back home to Pennsylvania, where I was scheduled to be married in just over a week’s time. I had recently purchased this Tears for Fears cassette; I had first heard the songs in a friend’s car a few weeks earlier and really liked them. This song in particular struck me as I was driving away from West Point because I suddenly realized that not only was I driving away from West Point, I was also driving away from some of the best friends I had ever known. And while I was happy that I might never see West Point again, I was suddenly sad with the realization that I might very well never see some of these special friends again, either.
This friend in particular held a very special place in my heart. Almost four years earlier, we had ended up next to each other on the bus that took us from Michie Stadium down to the Cadet Area on R Day. As I boarded this bus, a scrawny scared eighteen year old who really wasn’t sure what she had gotten herself into, I looked around for a friendly face amidst the sea of male faces. I spotted one face, the sole other girl on the bus, and went directly over to her. I asked her shyly if the other seat was taken and she said no, so I sat down next to her. We chatted nervously for the few minutes that it took the bus to transfer us from the safety and freedom of the civilian world to the gates of Army hell. In that brief period of time, we formed a sort of bond that has ended up carrying us through over 26 years of friendship. There were periods of time both during and after West Point where we really did not see each other often, and were not even really in touch. But we have always remained good friends, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I can always count on this woman to be a good friend. She has been there for me during really awful times, and I hope that she feels the same way about me. I think she does. We have laughed together, cried together, talked, emailed, walked along the beach, and actually even returned to West Point together for our twentieth reunion.
So, when the first strains of “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” came on the car radio this morning, my chest froze up and tears filled my eyes. I was back on West Point driving off post for what I hoped would be the last time ever. I was free, no longer a cadet, a brand new second lieutenant, a soon to be married twenty-two year old woman, driving down the road in my first car, my younger sister at my side, the windows rolled all the way down, singing, singing, singing, a tear silently sliding down my cheek.
For example, I can remember opening a can of black shoe polish early on in OBC, which occurred two years after I had graduated from West Point since I went straight from USMA to Oxford for grad school, and instantly being transported back to the first days of Beast Barracks. It was a rush, almost surreal. It had been two years since I had had to shine any shoes and two years since I had smelled black shoe polish. Yet the first whiffs of it hurled me back through time and space to that stressful, horrific blur of some six years before.
Aside from smells, I find that songs can hurtle me back through time as well. I tend to be somewhat masochistic, I suppose, as I enjoy listening to the “Nine at Nine” on Bob FM on my way to work every day. Every morning at 9 am, this eclectic rock mix station plays nine songs from a particular year. They select the years somewhat randomly so you can skip around from the seventies to the eighties to the sixties to the nineties during any given week. I find myself hearing these songs I haven’t heard – or even thought about! – in years. And often they bring back striking memories from different points in my life. Even more strangely, I often remember the lyrics and music, even though I haven’t heard these songs for so long and am musically impaired to boot.
Some songs will bring back memories from high school or junior high, even grade school or a particular incident or even a record or CD I used to own. Others will remind me of West Point or the Army or Oxford or being married or living in a particular place at a particular time. Songs I used to dance to, songs I used to play loudly on my stereo or my car cassette or CD player. Songs I used to hear on the radio. Songs I used to hate. Songs I used to love. Songs that remind me of events I haven’t thought of in years.
This morning the number one song from June 8, 1985, was “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” by Tears for Fears. Immediately, I was transported back to May 22, 1985, a few weeks earlier than the number one song date, and the day I graduated from West Point. As I drove out Washington Gate for what I imagined would be the last time I would ever see West Point in my rear view mirror, I was playing Tears for Fears on my car stereo. When “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” came on, tears suddenly filled my eyes. My sister was sitting next to me in my gray Honda Accord, packed to the gills with all of my personal belongings, and we were driving back home to Pennsylvania, where I was scheduled to be married in just over a week’s time. I had recently purchased this Tears for Fears cassette; I had first heard the songs in a friend’s car a few weeks earlier and really liked them. This song in particular struck me as I was driving away from West Point because I suddenly realized that not only was I driving away from West Point, I was also driving away from some of the best friends I had ever known. And while I was happy that I might never see West Point again, I was suddenly sad with the realization that I might very well never see some of these special friends again, either.
This friend in particular held a very special place in my heart. Almost four years earlier, we had ended up next to each other on the bus that took us from Michie Stadium down to the Cadet Area on R Day. As I boarded this bus, a scrawny scared eighteen year old who really wasn’t sure what she had gotten herself into, I looked around for a friendly face amidst the sea of male faces. I spotted one face, the sole other girl on the bus, and went directly over to her. I asked her shyly if the other seat was taken and she said no, so I sat down next to her. We chatted nervously for the few minutes that it took the bus to transfer us from the safety and freedom of the civilian world to the gates of Army hell. In that brief period of time, we formed a sort of bond that has ended up carrying us through over 26 years of friendship. There were periods of time both during and after West Point where we really did not see each other often, and were not even really in touch. But we have always remained good friends, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I can always count on this woman to be a good friend. She has been there for me during really awful times, and I hope that she feels the same way about me. I think she does. We have laughed together, cried together, talked, emailed, walked along the beach, and actually even returned to West Point together for our twentieth reunion.
So, when the first strains of “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” came on the car radio this morning, my chest froze up and tears filled my eyes. I was back on West Point driving off post for what I hoped would be the last time ever. I was free, no longer a cadet, a brand new second lieutenant, a soon to be married twenty-two year old woman, driving down the road in my first car, my younger sister at my side, the windows rolled all the way down, singing, singing, singing, a tear silently sliding down my cheek.
posted by delta at 3:12 PM
1 Comments:
I HATE that song, but I liked your post. : )
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