A Life With Music

I grew up with music.  It's always been a very important part of my life.  That's not to say I grew up in a musical family.  The extent of my family's musical achievements were many of my mom's made-up songs and a few attempts at instrumental lessons that mostly ended miserably for me.  But we did listen to music a lot. 

Any car trip, no matter how long or short, we'd have the radio or a tape playing (CDs later, of course).  Christmas Eves and mornings were incomplete without music in the background.  And even while my sister and I were doing our schoolwork (we were homeschooled), we almost always had the radio on.

Music still plays a very important role in my life.  I fall asleep to music almost every night, I hate to drive anywhere without music playing, even as I sit here and type I've got my iPhone on shuffle.

But it's not just having music playing that makes it important in my life.  Some songs have special meaning to me.  Death Cab for Cutie's "Passenger Seat" is one of the most romantic songs I've ever heard.  I know what song I'm going to play at my wedding for the father-daughter dance (Kendall Payne's "Daddy"), and I'm not even in a relationship.  There are some songs that I have to repeat a few times before I can move on to the next song on the playlist (Saving Jane's "Autumn and Me" and the accompanying hidden track and Jon McLaughlin's "Questions" are two big ones). 

A lot of times certain songs really speak to what I'm going through in my life at the time I hear them.  Sometimes I'll hear a song and wonder if the songwriter knows me, because there is no way this song isn't about me (deep down I still think Jon McLaughlin wrote "Praying to the Wrong God" about me).

I also love to sing along.  I can't really sing on my own to save my life, thanks to an annoying little combination of tone-deafness and complete lack of rhythm.  But when I'm singing along, I do alright.  I almost can't not sing along when a song I love is on.  Sometimes I'll cut off a conversation with someone to sing along with a song on the radio.  Yesterday I was shopping with a friend and a great James Taylor song came on over the store speakers, and I found myself quietly singing along.  It's one of my favorite things.

Despite how much I love music, I'm not "good" at music.  I'm pretty much useless when it comes to finding new music to love.  If someone gives me a few dollars to pick some music for the jukebox, I'll usually pick one song, get overwhelmed with the choices, and have someone else pick.  I have mostly my sister to thank for most of my current music library.  She knows music.  She knows good music.  She'll be telling me about her new favorite band, and then a month later they're everywhere (Fall Out Boy, the Fray, Kings of Leon are just a few bands she's done this with).

So every few months I'll find out from her what her new faves are, and I usually love them all.  I have a few other friends with great taste, that I can always count on for some great suggestions.  It's been about a year since I've had a significant music library update, so I'm feeling a little out of the loop right now.  Any suggestions of can't-live-without songs or artists?

Thinking About Earthquakes

I grew up in the Midwest, where the most severe natural disasters were tornadoes and blizzards.  Even so, the closest I ever got to a tornado was repeated viewings of Twister (and nightmares, but that's a whole other blog post).  My knowledge of and experience with earthquakes was limited at best, closer to nonexistent.

I can think of two instances in my childhood that might be considered earthquake encounters: a book I read when I was about 12, in which the main character was in San Francisco during that big earthquake in like 1870 or something; and an episode of Adventures in Odyssey where Eugene and I think his name was Tom were in LA during a road trip and were in an earthquake.

As you can see, many of my childhood experiences were facilitated by fictionalized accounts via film, radio, books, and tv.  And you wonder why I want to work in this industry...

Anyways, I never really cared about earthquakes besides entertainment value, because I lived in the Midwest and those like, never happen there.  And then, three and a half years ago I moved to Southern California and earthquakes became a very real possibility in my life.  I was actually kind of excited.  I wanted to experience an earthquake!  I mean, who wouldn't be pumped to feel the earth shaking?  I couldn't wait for an earthquake, despite everyone telling me that we were due for "the big one."

The first "real" (meaning it wasn't one of those 2.5's that you think is a large truck driving past your apartment) earthquake that I experienced was a 5.2 while I was working on the 10th floor of a 15-story building.  Now, buildings out here are built to withstand earthquakes, specifically, they're built on rollers so as to roll along with the earth in the event of a quake.  Which means that the building will continue to sway, back and forth, for several minutes after the earth stops shaking.

I was unprepared for the swaying building.  I was also unprepared for the inescapable movement of the earth.  I wouldn't say I flipped out, but I did not do well keeping it cool once the shaking ended. There's just no describing how it feels to have everything around you shaking and there's no getting away or stopping it, no matter how small the shaking is.  I definitely was pretty shaky myself for about a half hour afterwords.

Another weird thing about earthquakes is how the earth shakes differently sometimes.  There are rumbly ones that really are just like a large truck driving past and you barely notice the slight rattling of the window panes.  And then there's the kind of jumpy ones that will bounce you around for a few seconds.  My favorite was the jerky one, at 4am a couple months ago, that felt like a giant tugged on the ground under my apartment a few times.

That one was cool, but also kind of annoying, and I've discovered this is true of every quake I've been through, because when an earthquake starts, you never know how bad it will be.  Will it be that little rumbly guy?  Will it be just a few giant tugs and then be over?  Or will it keep going, and growing, until buildings and roadways begin to crumble and we're living like refugees among the rubble?

Because everyone is always saying, "the Big One is coming! We're overdue for the Big One! Only a matter of time before we fall into the ocean!" That's the thing about earthquakes, you never know if it's going to be the Big One. And that's why I'll probably never fully enjoy one, even though they seem like a fun concept.

Some Reasons Why I'll Probably Never Be a Spy...

Despite the fact that it's really all I've wanted to do since I was about 18.

1. I've never had any discernible upper-body strength, and probably never will.

2. It is literally impossible for me to learn a new language. Four semesters of French in college and... j'ne sais pas more than a few phrases.

3. Claustrophobia.  It's a bitch, but according to quite a few recurring stress-dreams, I definitely suffer from it.

That's really all I can think of, but probably enough to disqualify me from the most exciting life I can think of.