nostalgic tendencies

Lately I’ve been on a bigger than normal music kick. Perhaps brought upon by the run up to Record Store Day, a slight fluctuation in my usual musical absorptions, this kick began with me trying to find some new things for my ear holes, and then just carried on into a rediscovery of ¬†old things, things that kept me going through the angsty teen times. The early 20s. The vaguely pre-iPod days, where I actually had cds full of mixes in my car and in my bedroom, near my little portable cd player (and eventually on windows media player, holla holla freshman year laptop!).

Back then I was pretty into the pop punk scene, going to shows and listening to stuff like Something Corporate, Blink 182, Fenix tx, New Found Glory, Rufio, Eisley, Yellowcard, Jimmy Eat World, Motion City Soundtrack……basically anyone that you’d find playing on a stage at the Vans Warped Tour. And while lots of those tunes still provide the background to a Saturday housecleaning session, or a particularly jaunty work commute, for the most part, my musical leanings are much further away from pop-punk than they were when I was 17, and if you were to ask, I wouldn’t have heard 90% of their music produced after 2005 (although I have given the new Paramore and Fall Out Boy’s albums a listen though, but that is neither here nor there).

But something I realized the other day, something that really brings a smile to my lips, is thinking about Jon, an equally nerdy teenager, doing all the stuff that teenagers do, hanging out with friends and being stupid and going to shows, but just doing it a million miles away from me. And having no idea what’s coming in the future, but living an ocean apart and building ties that will bind us together a decade down the road. Today, putting on some random song that I listened to and that meant a lot to me in high school and having Jon scream/sing right along with me, reminds me of how small the world is, and how an ocean isn’t that big after all. And even though there are a million things and experiences and cultural touchstones that I wish we could have in common, it warms my heart when this thing, this thing that helped shape me into who I became in the deepest and most superficial of ways, can be shared and reminisced and laughed over with someone who gets it, and who was experiencing the same things with the same music in the background, just living. And who I love now. It’s crazy. And nice.

 

 

Ah. Sometimes I just feel mushy about that guy, and the cosmos that brought us together. I’ll shut up now. Love and light and all that.

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