Why can't you forget?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXyrCRd1ikw

   I heard "Creep" in the clubs in Okinawa, namingly NEO Manhattan, The Tunnel and The Apple House. It was tradition that on Fridays, paydays, the boys would drive up to Naha City and go to Tower Records. I'll tell you that from a young age, I was obsessed with records. Tapes. CDs. MP3s...is there something after that?

   Going to a record store was a hobby for me. Not outside honing my skills on the basketball court, soccer field, on a skateboard or playing a horn. It was digging for audial gold. Finding that one song that would take me away, take me to another place. Not here. Where the band wanted me to be. In their happiness or misery, I would connect with the songs, then the bands. In some cases these relationships have lasted decades, many more intimate than others.

   I went to Tower Records and my kinship with Radiohead began with the purchase of Pablo Honey. 20 years ago. Mind you we were into Pantera, Rage Against The Machine, Ministry, Metallica, Clutch...if it was heavy we were cranking it and LOUD. Yet, on weekend nights (and weekdays) we'd be weaving our way through every back alley and dive bar on the Rock. We found a home at NEO Manhattan and spent our evenings dancing to Depeche Mode, The Smiths, The Cure, Sisters of Mercy, with flavors of punk in Fugazi, NOFX, Green Day...and thankfully Radiohead.

   I distinctly remember a round table discussion that year in our room in the barracks on MCAS Futenma about the distinguished "CD of the Year". Clutch was mentioned. Pantera. Me, I said Radiohead and the boys erupted. What?? They said. Who??! I think back now, as The Bends came out, which I'm enjoying now for the first time in a long while right now, and their popularity grew and grew. By the time OK Computer came out they were rock gods.

   It's been very rewarding being on their journey with them. Hearing each album hundreds of times. Seeing them live just once, on a night I really can't remember but pieces of. I have Thom's solo stuff, I like Atoms for Peace, but it's in Radiohead that I've confided in for decades now. They have cured me of my ailments and been there with me when noone else was. Only a reach into the R's in the closet away from escaping.

Freedom

"Freedom is nothing else but a chance to get better" ~ Albert Camus

   That quote really stood out to me on my Facebook feed. Are we all truly free? I've touched base on this before a bit, but I always feel as though I'm chained to my "smart" phone. How many experiences have I missed? How many projects go left undone?? How many books could I have read??? I blame them for my blog posts and journal entries coming to dead halt. Not as though I was consistent before in writing or typing them, but now they are non-existent. Over a year it's been since I've blogged and all I see are my kids that much older. I feel I'm not seeing them grow enough.

  

   Beautiful day outside on this July 4th and here I am searching for just the right album to inspire me through this entry and hopefully push me into the world outside. My compost is calling for me, as are the half-dead plants gasping for water on the back porch. David Gilmore's guitar has me yearning for the sea. The sand in my toes and the rhythmic tides in my ears. Hard to believe that an album nearly as old as me (Wish You Were Here, 1975) has this much affect on my emotions, but oh, does it. Memories of rebellion, dissidence and brotherhood.

   I was watching Live at Pompeii last week after the kids were down. After a few minutes, out sauntered Pierce along with the whisper/whine "I can't sleep." Usually I'm watching a DVRed basketball or football game, but this my offseason as a fanatic. I catch up on any series I'm watching or begin watching a new one, but in this case it was Pink Floyd playing in the ruins of Vesuvius' aftermath. He was mesmorized by the lava and I by the beautiful riffs and pulsating bass of the band.

  

   He's 6 and a 1/2 now, with his two front teeth missing and his face more and more becoming that of 1st grader. His baby and toddler-hood are gone. He is the inside type, such a struggle to get him outside to do anything. It's all about Star Wars, Legos, Wii and his DS. He takes on feeding Odie in the morning and gives him plenty of hugs, but will not walk him around the block with me. Is it worth it to get whipped up into a frenzy just to walk the dog? To go the park?? Or even the beach??? He flat-out refuses. Beyond that, he's reading very well, not sure about the writing part, and his swimming has vastly improved since his weeks in Merritt Island High pool.

   Harper is 3 and almost a 1/2. She is living life in the median of being a princess and a popstar. She changes her clothes as often as possible, usually from dress to dress. Most of the time it's the pink one with the polka dots which is constantly being retrieved from the laundry basket, unclean, so that she can wear it again and again. She's caring for her dolls intently now, putting them down for naps and carrying them around. There is a mound of them on the floor a few feet away from me. Looks like a sleepover in the family room, with a dozen of them, of all walks of life, sleeping off last night.

  

   So, my 4th of July day off is a third over and I haven't made it farther then the confines of my property line. The sun is loud and proud, while the flag dances in it's glory. Everytime I mention taking a walk with Odie, Pierce screeches like a dying owl and my blood pressure doubles. Looking for some relief with all this freedom I have. Bothers me that this is what I'm doing with it to be honest, that I haven't been doing enough with it. Perhaps it's because I'm not as independent as I believe I am.

   As "Wish You Were Here" strums in to the space, it always reminds me of my brother and I sitting in a car behind a gas station in New Orleans. My best friend, James, had just been accosted for drinking & driving and we were ordered by the cop to "stay right where we are". Instead, as soon as he was out of sight, I hopped in the driver's seat and drove away. The cassette flipped over and over through the night, until the wee hours of the morning prompted me to find our way back to the base we were staying on. The next day the Gators would pummel the Noles for their first national championship.