The soundtrack of my life

Jumpin' jaspers the frog went a courtin'." Although unfamiliar to most, the old children's tune "Frog Went a Courtin'" settles in tight along my funny bone as it rattles distant memories of third grade music class. It was then that I disturbed class on a routine basis and became a frequent distraction to all future teachers. I accredit this little ditty, due to the version we learned which required us to yell "Mmm hmm" repeatedly and loudly to our neighbors, for gab subsequently becoming my gift. For the last umteen years, I have still found that my most coherent and fond memories coincide with a particular song … encapsulating my life with its own private soundtrack. Music is music. Your tastes may blow and the pot which I draw my listening favorites from may not be cool, but it doesn't matter. Herein lies the point: the song makes the moment(s). Just as the monster rock ballad poignantly defines a slightly older sibling's high school days, I have the grunge, jam band, classic rock and alternative rock tunes which will forever pull me back to my seat in high school French class. \nAlthough not much to remember, the summation of this four year tenure as one clumped era of rock music is satisfactory to me indeed. I hold very little memory of high school at all, but what I do at least sounds good in my head. Pearl Jam's Vs. and Live's Throwing Copper serenading me along to golf tryouts, holding for all time that I never could make the cut. And an even sportier memory drifts into view with tennis mates hanging out the windows of my vintage '91 Ford Probe, as random Nirvana tracks resurface into my current listening habits (more on this trio to follow).\nThen there are the classics: Phish's Billy Breathes and Tool's Aenima. These two, albeit quite distant in genre variety, are housed and live on in the memory of this guy. My first concert: Phish at Deer Creek in '96 is forever employed as a fixture in the succeeding mind alterations and inquisitive "I'll try anything" teen mindset. Tool, of course, offers happy reminiscence in the heavy heyday fashion of particular vices and untold, however stirring, tales of a 17-year-old. Variety is of most importance mind you. I would like to add here too, that Eric Clapton's "Cocaine" and random bootleg Grateful Dead tapes strike that singular nerve which has the capability to stimulate my flaccid memory. \nAnd as Green Day's "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" nearly projectile vomits my very memory of high school graduation, it surely sounds out a thematic end to my high school days. Far from the hollowed halls of high school, college has certainly broadened my musical horizons; however my memory has continued to confine itself along its lifelong means of recollection, with recurring rebirth through song. \nThen there are the ever-present hip-hop culture tracks which spin back into circulation on random eves at frat parties. These of the Nelly and OutKast variety, circa 2000, spawn tattered recollection of incited drunken havoc while forever spurring fraternity-frequenting ladies to show their appreciation for these artists while dancing on tables for all to enjoy. These are timeless chapters, despite the numerous pages forever blanked from blackouts, which are quickly recollected upon hearing such rap anthems as "Ms. Jackson" and "Ride Wit Me." Although I was fatally scarred and nearly left for dead, the latest installments of memory traversing through selective sounds have come with much more fervor.\nThe recent road trips, day trips and international travels flood back to the forefront with tiny traces of haughty comfort. These trips are revisited as the melodies of Modest Mouse, Wilco, Radiohead and Belle and Sebastian creep into audible range and produce a flickering moment of better times lost to the wayside, however tangible with a click or a flip. \nAs prefaced, now a few words on that trio of Seattleites. As you may or may not know April 5 is the ten year mark since Kurt Cobain took his own life. As this article whirlwinds around particulars of distant times and places the music takes its listener, Nirvana continues to stick me in the immediate present everlasting. Nearing the likeness of offering virgin ears onto repeated listens, Nirvana tracks echo along in the stillness of a fallen tree. Cobain's lyrical offerings transcend. It's like a preservation act; I can listen again and again trying harder and harder each time to place his words into a realm attainable for my ears, however, limiting the placement process in traditional memorial fashion. I am remembering it anew each time through. I feel that maybe a treasured ability, despite any other lack of functioning memory, and maybe you'll listen to it again for the first time, foregoing all want of memory.\nYep, the soundtrack of my life has its ups and downs and funny hiccups; but whatever the track, wherever you are or who you are with, it is great to timetravel via sound waves.