Tuesday’s Mental Jukebox
We could all use a little more Marvin Gaye
Every day my mind is mixing songs on a soundtrack.
Tuesday I woke up with “Smells Like Teen Spirit” blaring from my cortex. This grunge rhythm pushes me into a day where I can pretend to be aware of things: cars merging on the interstate, empty Mountain Dew bottles rolling around, and the last words I said to my daughter: “go back to bed now” in a voice too firm for my taste.
Around 10:00 the sun gets embarrassed and hides and “Killing Me Softly” reverberates in my head. The Fugees version, not the original, because this is what I remember from being 16 on contemplative days where the clouds matched my feelings. And as I consider if teenage boys can ever have raw emotions, some Dashboard Confessional song starts and I remember why girls love boys who can play guitar and write poetry.
I am half of that, and so “Creep” by Stone Temple Pilots begins, “I’m half the man I used to be” because at this moment, on a lunch break, I am lost in what it means to be a man. My soundtrack skipping from hard rock to soft pop and as the day winds down I am desperate for something loud, Metallica turned up to 20 in my ear lobes, or the political rage of a Dead Prez rap with the windows down as if I am some activist only protesting my own thoughts.
