soundtrack

"Thunder" by Boys Like Girls is a terrible, terrible song. It is ridiculously sappy and pre-teen love idealistic. And, dammit, I like it. "Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer" is a stupid, ridiculous thing to say. But it struck a chord with me. Personal soundtracks. What is the soundtrack of your life? You can have one now, because of Apple's gift to man: the iPOD. But really the music you filter through your brain while you're on the bus or in line for krishna lunch is not what you remember. Other sounds make up the soundtrack to your life.

That intensely creepy version of "A Few of My favorite Things" that once issued from century tower. Those same bells chiming 10 p.m. on a cold and foggy night after poetry class. Frank, the Jesus-guy shouting about why we're all going to hell. The fire alarm in Graham Hall. Flip flops. Bike wheels zzzing over pavement. Drunken chants of "It's great to be a Florida Gator." These are the sounds that make up the "UF" track on my life's soundtrack.

(Another terrible song on the CD at work that got me thinking about this stuff: Taylor Swift's "Our Song.") Even when it comes to my spotty track record with boys. Of course I have a particular song that I associate with each guy I have cared about. (Incubus's "Wish You Were Here," The All American Rejects's "Dirty Little Secret," Peter Sarstedt's "Where Do You Go To My Lovely?") But these men have contributed much more meaning full tracks to my life's album.
Let's take "Dirty Little Secret" for instance. He provided a critcal piece to my "Time Spent Alone in my Dorm Freshman Year" track: a voice mail greeting of "Hello Darlin." The sound I hear when I picture him is not AAR's crooning, but they way he says the word "gorgeous," the plop of icecream dropping into the bottom of Trudy the vending machine, brushing sand off of denim, and the scraping of my desk on the tile of Ms. Hansen's classroom floor.
"Wish You were Here's" track is comprised of shuffling sneakers, soft snoring, trumpet rendition of the wedding march, my bedroom window sliding open (the loudest sound EVER), flicking a lighter, car doors, sneakers on the tile in building 11, and unwrapping fast food.

"Home" includes such selections as Cosmo's barking, Sonic theme music, golf commentary, old pages turning and crackling, the slapping of bare feet on tile.

I lost my iPOD this summer. At first I thought I would never get over the loss, but now I'm almost glad. Of course I still love to listen to music. But I want my life's soundtrack to be more unique that that of a dramedy romcom or episode of Scrubs.