Hard To Explain

Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time” played softly in the background. Yet, Lauper´s voice whining, demanding attention overtook my senses. In that moment I felt resentful, it overwhelmed me, the resent I felt towards my choices, those that led to my loneliness. I had decided there was no life for me outside of school and work. Yet, now I longed for the embrace of my life companion, instead I was greeted by the loud footsteps of my friends approaching my room, followed by some debate over whether or not vinyl was dead. “Face the facts man! No one´s buying music for twice the price when music is as available, as it is disposable thanks to the internet!” Jake whined. “Listen here, cause´ I´m not repeating myself! Jack White´s record label “Third Man Records” is bringing back vinyl, he´s reviving it!” Rob retorted. “Just yesterday, I went into a local record store, and you won´t believe what was littering the walls! Taylor Fucking Swift! What a waste of pressed vinyl, really! Of course, Arctic Monkeys was as well, and even if they have gone rather main-stream, I applaud their efforts to revive British rock.” Kat stated matter-of-factly. With that, the conversation turned to artists staying true to their art. With one single swing of the door, there they stood, looking as disheveled as ever, my best friends. “Ehhh, yeah….your mom let us in, says you´ve been moping around all day.” Jake stated bluntly. “There´s a local show tonight, Sarie de Salle is playing, her sound is pretty mellow,” Rob added. “She´s the chick that does the folk-indie covers of pop songs, remember?” Kat added knowingly. “Sure, I´ll have to push my schedule around, bump up my 9:00 moping to 12:00, let´s go,” I exclaimed pulling on my leather jacket and heading out the door. Once in the car, I plugged in my iPod. “Aww, no Bowie! You always play Bowie!” Rob whined. “EAT SHIT ROB!” Kat and I exclaimed in unison, earning us a snorting laugh from Jake. Heroes blasted from the speakers, Jake raised the volume, and lowered the windows. I stuck my head out the window, singing along loudly. “AND WE COULD BE HEROES….JUST FOR ONE DAAAAY!!!! Man, I love this song, I just want to submerge myself in every beat, melody, rhythm, and lyric, ya´ know?” I spoke above the music. “Yeah, this is definitely in my top Bowie tracks,” Jake answered. “Top Five Bowie songs…GO!” I exclaimed. “Err… Heroes, Life on Mars, Rock & Roll Suicide, Under Pressure, and…um….I don´t know….Space Oddity!!!!” Jake exclaimed. Worriedly, he examined my reaction to his list. “So…what do you think?” He asked a hint of anxiety in his voice. “Agreed, assuming the list is in no particular order, then, it´d be Heroes, Rock and Roll Suicide, Under Pressure, Space Oddity, and Life on Mars,” I answered knowingly. “Agreed!” everyone in the car chimed in. Looking up, I realized we had arrived to the bar, where Sarie De Salle was playing.

Notes

After a long summer of cliche romantic comedies, this story vaguely came to me in a dream. (Between you and me, it´ll be a while before I can watch ´Heathers´again.)