Summer of 2003. I am a newly-minted college graduate, have moved back across the country for what I then think is only a temporary pulling-my-shit-together break before jumping into a young, urban, professional existence in our nation's capital (in a non-existent job) living with a friends (who actually do have some kind of plan, unlike myself). Living at home, adopting/being adopted by a tangental group of friends, reactivating dormant crushes, crushing and being crushed, spending through my savings, being grounded, filming a movie. This is how I spent my summer vacation. Patrick burned me a copy of this CD, and I wore through it. The songs are each important, relevant in their own way - "Cinnamon" used to irritate but I became enamored; "Stupid" was my story; "Blanket Hog," "Bride and Bridle," it goes on and on. "Nora" is the most potent, for me, and it brings me back to the sadness of the end of the summer, the realities of who I was, who I was dealing with, and the world in which I had to exist. I still think I (mostly) made the right decisions, but I guess one never knows.
The liner notes have letters that John Roderick has received from girls he has dated. It is hilariously sad. Mike used to say, imagining the average female listener (but mostly imagining me) and her response to John's lyrics and life, that "I could change him!" I couldn't, but it will never keep me from saying it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment