Saturday, November 5, 2011

Music Memories

Last time the kid was here, we had a discussion on music.  He was doing his usual spouting of the Harridan’s words verbatim, ie:  I want technology; but I don’t need it.  ‘Yeah.  Whatever.  Knob” is my first thought, however it’s not exactly an appropriate response.  Instead I tried the common sense tactic.

I told him that every single important moment in my life, is represented by music.  A song is so powerful; it can drag me back to a certain moment in time. 

The CowsillsI Love The Flower Girl; I was 3 or 4, sitting in the sand outside of our caravan and annexe at Ocean Grove, playing with my bucket and spade.   I was sitting on a foam surfboard and wearing a pale blue bikini; white frill on the skirt, daisy’s on the top.  Unchained Melody – married; David Bowie – Sorrow; the first time a boyfriend cheated on me; Jessie’s Girl - my sister in full wedding garb on stage singing her heart out at her wedding.  I’m sure you are getting the picture.

Music is more important to me than movies or television; I’d have to seriously wonder if it comes higher on the ladder than books, maybe it would – which is weird considering I’m a writer.  But maybe they are too similar to compare; music represents escapism, but in some ways; so does writing.

An example of our life and music is in a picture of our lounge room (below).  And these are just the records…

Given that I have painted a picture for you, perhaps you can understand the significance of what I felt this morning, when I realized that my 1.5 terabytes of digital music, spanning fifteen years – is gone.
The kid has been dragging our external drives to the spare room to copy stuff.  After all, the moron he calls a mother did get him an uninsured iPhone; and given that technology is evil over there in velvet land; his only chance to acquire music is when he is here.

And somehow, in his copying, he has managed to remove all my music.
I have texted the Squeeze to tell him that I love that fifteen years of music more than I love him; so he better hope he can find it; but as an aside, I’m going to start putting rules in place as his kids have been raised with the idea of “open slather”.  In my world, my things are mine and you don’t touch them without asking.

Yesterday, my doctor upped my does of Valium.  This is to combat the stress and migraines.  I didn’t feel like my stress levels have escalated, but then this morning, as I felt my anger levels hit the roof, and I actually kicked the pillows on my bedroom floor in a tantrum; I realized the Squeeze, and his selfish family that think to rape and pillage anything of his; not to mention his thieving, lying wife ARE MY STRESS!

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Thanks. Better check it out but it should be up today!