Music as Memory

I realized recently that my life has had an unintentional soundtrack. Songs correspond to events and stages, though I didn't mean them to. It just sorta happened that way.

In a very basic, very rudimentary way it might look like this... *click on the captions to hear the tunes*

Age 7. "Rubber duckie, you're the one."

"C is for Cookie, Disco Version" 

Age 9-11. Lip syncing and choreographing dance moves with my friends.

I was the brunette but I wanted to be the blonde.

Debbie Harry = the epitome of cool.

"I got chills..."

Legwarmers and beaded headbands obligatory.

Late Tween: "It's Duran Duran!" Cue girlish screaming.

Posters of these guys filled my room from floor to ceiling. 

Fourteen-ish: when I start to become all earnest and political. Save the world. Peace.

Still a brilliant album. 

Teens: this played at every high school dance I ever attended. The entire gym is full of sweaty, hormonal sixteen-year-olds rocking out...

We added our own naughty chant to this song. Shhh. Don't tell.

Another high school dance song. (Teenage prayer [er...one of them]: *please God make sure I slow-dance to this super-long song with someone I actually like*).

Quick, find a good slow dance partner! Or hide. 

1990. Friend dies in a drunk driving car crash.

This song will always be linked with tragedy. 

Entire 1990's = dance clubs.  I'm too sexy for this dance floor.

Early 90's grooving. 

Still grooving in the late 90's.

Backpacking in the early 90's. This song followed me all over the world. Sick of it!

Still sick of it!

Cramming at University in the 90's. Coffee shops and intense discussions about lit-er-a-ture.

I sing along but have no idea what I am saying!

Oh, Sarah! So many cups of tea
drunk in your honour on rainy
Vancouver days!

Thirties. Married.

Cue: Pachelbel's Canon in D.

With Children.

For years, this is the only type of music I have time for. 
(Plus I develop a mom-crush on Anthony)

Commuting anthem as we drive to work-daycare-school-errands...  (ongoing)

Even my youngest boy sings along from the backseat.

Yep, music has always been there, playing in the background, soulful, sad and sweet; lusty, rampant and rich.

Yet this list is only the tip of the iceberg.

I could've gone deeper and reached broader. I could have gotten more personal. There are many minutes from aged zero to forty two, moments of agony, angst, doubt, hope, joy, excitement, introspection--

Many have their own soundtrack--though some were sweet (or bittersweet) in their silence.

What an interesting graph that would be, our lives recorded and set to bursts of sound--and pauses.