Music is my life.

Really, it's not though.

I can't sing.

(I like to think I can in my car though, and I do so loudly.)

But when I was little, I apparently told my mom - in a super serious way - that "music is my life"... and she has never let me forget it. The irony is, I suck at all things musical.

However, anytime I hear a song, it throws me right back to the time in my life when that song was popular. I can often figure out when a song came out by remembering what was going on in my life at that time. Significant songs linked to significant people and times.... but also non-significant songs linked to people and times that were ordinary and everyday.... they still linger in my memory.... attached to those songs. Those songs are the soundtrack of my life.

Maybe that would have been a better title for this entry.

I'm losing my train of thought... sorry...

I heard this song on my way home the other day and it sent me right back to being in college. The scene: dark basement of a rented townhouse, the floor wet from the melted snow that came in on the soles of everyone's shoes, packed with people, keg of cheap beer on ice, and music blaring. Me: dancing next to a washing machine, that I think I had been sitting on moments before, with a guy who danced way better than me and WAY better than any white boy has the right to.

This was the song:



Needless to say, I had the radio in my car blaring and was dancing (in my seat) and singing (loudly and badly) all the way down 422.

And for anyone who knows 422 at rush hour? I was doing 10 mph while everyone around me wondered what sort of fit I was having.

Clearly, I didn't care.

Music is my life.

And I like to move it.