My Music Journal 2025: April 11, 2025

 

Friday, April 11, 2025

Time: 3:08 PM
Song: I Knew Prufrock Before He Got Famous
Artist: Frank Turner
Mode of Consumption: Listening to Spotify.

Link to song: https://open.spotify.com/track/1ZdqkFeP6fTzwJG9nfSvTd?si=b801defcd42b4d51

My freshman year at NIU I took a literature course. It wasn’t a General Education course, as I had tested out of having to take those in English. It was like a half step above those. I wanted to take an English course as I was trying to decide if that would be my major. Frankly, I look back at that time in life and realize now just how haphazardly I made decisions.

The course was taught by Professor Wiliam Baker, an elderly man who I believe was from Scotland. He was fiery. He was gruff. He seemed enamored with challenging this course comprised of bleary-eyed freshmen. I am pretty sure it was an 8 AM class.

One of the pieces we studied was “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” by T.S. Eliot. I remember being intimidated because I don’t frankly remember studying much poetry in high school. I suspect like grammar; poetry was starting to get phased out of the average curriculum. Both grammar and poetry are difficult subjects for most students, making the day tougher on both teacher and student, and those looking at the big picture feel like they are things that most students don’t really need either much in the modern world.

It’s unfortunate but true. I grew up in the era where math and science were preached to any student considering college. I remember classmates doubling up on math courses so that they would get the requisite calculus taken during their senior year. I wonder how beneficial that turned out for most of them.

It’s a shame, because poetry and grammar also require a deeper level of thinking and reasoning. Just the sort of things that seem lacking when I look around the world.

Anyways, as far as poetry goes, I felt defeated. I hadn’t much clue what these were poets were getting at.

Still, there was something about Prufrock and Eliot. I didn’t understand it, but it felt different than Shakespeare’s sonnets, or even Milton’s epic poetry that I’d encounter later in my college career. Prufrock is a puzzle with opening lines I remember to this day:

“Let us go then, you and I
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;”

My Music Journal 2025: April 10, 2025

 

Thursday, April 10, 2025

Time: 7:25 PM
Song: Thrash Unreal
Artist: Against Me!
Mode of Consumption: Listening to our downloads on Apple Music.

Link to song: https://open.spotify.com/track/3c3XnCPwxGhQEHFxxjQcWe?si=6e1b97fecf384601

For the last seven or eight months, I have basically been running our Write On group. Our former leader, Kay, had been looking to step back from her role, and then sadly she became ill before passing away in March.

One of the things we talked about with the change is how we wanted to structure the meetings. We concluded it would be good to look at different pieces of published writing to try and glean inspiration or intuit writing devices, skills and concepts from them. So, one of our two meetings each month is dedicated to this, and we call it the “Craft Conversation.” 

So, each month I scour my personal library looking for a short story, or nonfiction essay, or poem, or whatever happens to catch my eye. Sometimes it comes easy. Maybe it’s part of a book I am reading. Maybe I remember studying a certain piece way back in college. 

For the first meeting in May, I decided to scan a portion of Stephen King’s “On Writing.” It’s the first two sections of his chapter entitled “Toolbox.” I am scanning the few pages while this song plays. 

I picked this section for a couple reasons. 

• Our last meeting included an article about poetic devices that can be used in prose. So, these devices are all things we can start including in our writer’s toolbox. 
• We are also going to celebrate my birthday during the first meeting in May, so I picked a selection that I remember enjoying and finding helpful. 
• Finally, the entire book does a wonderful job of illustrating the writing ideas and concepts. I think it will be helpful for the members of our group. 

So, I scan a page, and it’s talking about vocabulary, the value of powerful vocabularies and those that write powerful sentences with simple structures and words. 

The song hits its chorus. 

“No mother ever dreams that her daughter’s going to grow up to be a junkie.” 

My Music Journal 2025: April 9, 2025

 

Wednesday, April 9, 2025

Time: 7:50 AM
Song: Angel From Montgomery
Artist: Bonnie Raitt
Mode of Consumption: Listening to MP3s on drive to work.

Link to song: https://open.spotify.com/track/6JssQFiBCi6ZcE6060S9A7?si=8692b408ef434647

There’s a line in this song: 

“How the hell can a person
Go to work in the mornin’
And come home in the evenin’
And have nothin’ to say.”

First, John Prine lyrics with Bonnie Raitt’s voice is just a good way to start the day. 

Second, sometimes lines like that worry me because I am the kind of guy that can leave in the morning and come back home and really have nothing to say. Maybe I’m boring. Okay, there’s no maybe about it. I’m boring.

I’m just not a talkative guy, and while sometimes that’s true for people when they are young and then they grow out of it, I actually find that I have less to say as a I get older. Most of the time, I prefer not to say anything at all. I’m not into chit-chat. I don’t carry conversations. I say what I need to say and rarely anything more. 

I like to think I get it from my Grandpa Reed. He was a quiet fellow who pulled off silent and stoic with ease. Of course, he had seventy some years of life by the time I met him, that included the daily grind of dairy farming and whatever atrocities he encountered in war to add depth to his silence. My silence, I regret to inform you, I find to be pretty shallow. 

Sorry for those disappointed that I’m not opining on the next Great American Novel when you’re with me and I’m not saying anything. I assure you, I am just as disappointed. 

My Music Journal 2025: April 8, 2025

 

Tuesday, April 8, 2025

Time: 7:40 AM
Song: Crazy Train
Artist: Ozzy Osbourne
Mode of Consumption: Listening to MP3s on drive to work.

Link to song: https://open.spotify.com/track/7ACxUo21jtTHzy7ZEV56vU?si=4e7d631f51934df2

The morning started with adulting. Contacting our HVAC person because our furnace was leaking and then heading to work.

“Crazy Train” started to play, and I had a few memories jump to mind.

The first was that I remember sitting in my truck in high school, I think in the Northland Mall parking lot, and this song came on. The opening salvo made me jump. I don’t know why. I believe I was listening to a tape, and I knew the song was coming, it just really hit that time. The nefarious sound sent a quick chill up my spine.

The second is that during high school, professional wrestling’s Attitude Era was popular. I had been a big fan of wrestling as kid in the late 80s and early 90s. As I got older, and the product’s target audience remained younger, I drifted away.

But, about 1996, the approach by the two major wrestling companies changed to an older demographic, namely young men and teenagers. My closest friends (Jake and Kyle) and I were hooked on it also.

That included an influx of video games on Nintendo 64. These games featured a “create a character” function, and we developed a faction known as “The Devil Train.” Our characters were Jeffrey Diablo, Lucifer Menedez, and Hades McKenzie. It’s crazy that I can remember that all these years later. While each character changed looks depending on the game, I think we stuck to red and black outfit colors.

I’ll give you one guess what song we wanted to use for our entrance. Of course, it wasn’t on the game, but if it ever became real life, we would have demanded paying the licensing fee.

My Music Journal 2025: April 7, 2025

 

Monday, April 7, 2025

Time: 5:10 PM
Song: And It’s Still Alright
Artist: Nathaniel Rateliff
Mode of Consumption: Listening to MP3s on drive home from work.

Link to song: https://open.spotify.com/track/2tRxHjEkdgGMv9kZbOyqOH?si=af4f68cddd964dba

The car in front of me slowed to twenty miles per hour, veered to the middle of the road, before floating back over to the correct lane. As we descend a hill, the car sped up to forty until reaching a culvert at the bottom. Then once again, the speed slowed and the white SUV meandered to the middle of the road. 

So, it went as we traversed Kilgour Road from Route 2 outside of Dixon to Palmyra Road at Prairieville. The erratic lane usage and hills making it impossible to pass. 

Such is life driving on country roads. Drivers going really fast. Other drivers putting along like driving is something they just found out about. Tractors. Combines. Bicyclists taking up a quarter of a lane. Small wildlife. Sometimes big domesticated animals freed from their pastures. A little bit of everything.

At Prairieville, the driver turns, a boon for me. I continue on straight. 

Prairieville is a mere blip on a map and only barely bigger than that in reality. We have a joke in our family that one time my mom got lost in Prairieville at the end of a long day of moving my sister into a new home. Getting lost is almost an impossible feat. 

With Prairieville behind me, Nathaniel Rateliff begins to sing, a sad song about losing a friend. I forget about the erratic driver, about work, about most things, and think about those that I’ve lost. 

My Music Journal 2025: April 6, 2025

 

Sunday, April 6, 2025

Time: 11:50 AM
Song: Messy
Artist: Lola Young
Mode of Consumption: Listen to Out of Order radio show on 93.7 FM

Link to Song: https://open.spotify.com/track/3SKH53SPQbEnZR4cJPVaz2?si=f653708a97364665

Jodi backs out of the parking spot at Subway, having just had a nice Sunday lunch with my parents. We had all attended a wedding the night before so we were all a little tired. 

“Messy,” comes on the radio as she pulls around the building. 

“You know, I liked this song when I first heard it, but it’s almost getting to the point where I am hearing it too much.” 

It was my time for me to flash my ignorance. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard this song.” 

“Really, hmmm. It’s on our channel at work a lot right now, and on the radio a bunch.”

I guess my listening habits are still more limited than I thought, at least concerning new music. The show’s host, Stryker, verifies my position. This is the No. 1 song for the week. 

We talked enough during the song that I don’t even formulate an opinion on it. Mostly I am wondering if I need to improve how I discover new music. The only time I really get a dose of new music on the radio is on Sundays when we listen to the “Out of Order” show while running errands. I do listen to “Release Radar” and “Discover Weekly” playlists provided by Spotify regularly, but they are catered to the rest of my listening habits, so perhaps that’s limiting. 

I guess it’s something to think about. 

My Music Journal 2025: April 5, 2025

 

Saturday, April 5, 2025

Time: 8:50 PM
Song: The Twist
Artist: Chubby Checker
Mode of Consumption: Played during my cousin’s wedding reception. 

Link to song: https://open.spotify.com/track/4YCnTYbq3oL1Lqpyxg33CU?si=fd291e44228c493e

My family is mostly comprised of stereotypical midwestern Lutherans. We are generally quiet amongst groups. We prefer to sit near the back of the sanctuary. We rarely like drawing attention to ourselves. 

The only exception is when one of those amongst us decides to get married. 

Then we celebrate. 

Not necessarily with copious amounts of alcohol, although there is certainly some of that involved. 

What we need is music. Anything fun from the 1950s to present day will do, and we’ll dance. Or at least our approximation to dancing. It usually us in a circle, sort of moving our legs and arms nearly in time with the music. Laughing. Sometimes taking a turn in the middle of the circle to really show the awkwardness of our moves. 

It’s always been true. 

I remember it from weddings when I was kid thirty-plus years ago, and it warms my heart that it remains true today. 

“The Twist” was made for this scenario. It’s a simple dance, although I doubt any of us really execute it correctly. And, it’s the kind of song that just sounds amazing over a good pair of speakers with a multicolored flashing lights. 

It’s a chance for two-and-a-half minutes to let the rest of the world and all its problems to fade, don a smile, and twist away.

My Music Journal 2025: April 4, 2025

 

Friday, April 4, 2025

Time: 4:45 PM
Song: Black Boys/White Boys
Artist: Original Broadway Cast of Hair
Mode of Consumption: Listening to Playlist Pandemonium “Favorite 1960s albums” playlist

Link to song: https://open.spotify.com/track/2apflfqdCaoch5keP0XcA4?si=e551531bc8354b2a

The final minutes of the work week ticked away as I listened to the weekly group-generated playlist. Jodi had nominated songs from the soundtrack of Hair. 

When these songs, which are two songs, but they are linked as one within the narrative of the Hair, as you can’t play one without playing the other, I knew one thing. This is going to be in my head the rest of the weekend. 

They are just earworm songs with lyrics that get into the head and don’t leave. And, if you know the lyrics, they are likely to raise an eyebrow being murmured by a straight white male such as myself. Oh, well, you might as well try stop the sun from rising than resist singing along with these tunes. 

“Hair” is one of the vinyl records to blame for us now having over five hundred records in the collection and even more than that in the basement that I am working on selling. 

In the early years of our marriage (2008-2010), we had a handful of vinyl records, and mostly, it was Jodi that curated that collection and would add to it occasionally. This record was one that we played quite often. We even saw stage productions of the show, both in DeKalb and at Timber Lake in Lake Carroll, Illinois. 

It’s a production dripping with the passion of a very specific time on this earth. It rings with hope and despair. It’s ripe with humor and cynicism. It’s an experience I recommend for anyone interested in theatre and in 1960s counter culture. 

My Music Journal 2025: April 3, 2025

 

Thursday, April 3, 2025

Time: 7:55 AM
Song: The Long Black Veil
Artist: Johnny Cash
Mode of Consumption: Listening to MP3s on the way to work.

Link to the song: https://open.spotify.com/track/1MD5D5cFRKBAwbooPvifjN?si=170b330d6bfa4ea6

Playlist Pandemonium this week is looking for songs from our favorite albums from the 1960s. I had considered “At Folsom Prison” by Johnny Cash earlier this week, and hearing this song this morning put it over the top. The hard part is still to pick just three of the songs from the entire album to include on the playlist.

I like this song because of the crowd interaction especially the laughing after Johnny sings the line about the narrator sleeping with his best friend’s wife.

That line had mind turning a few years ago, and as a writing exercise, I wrote the poem below, but this one from the point of view of the wife.

Beneath the Long Black Veil

I met them both when they were twelve
Looked so alike, dark eyes, fair skin, just like elves
Nobody knows all the secrets they told
Forming the sort of youthful bonds that hold.

As it turns out, I married one, but fell for the other
Seldom, it seemed, my husband cared to be my lover.
So, to his best friend’s arms I strayed from my vows
Nobody knows about this betrayal, even now.

 Then a man was killed under the town hall light
Nobody knows the cause, but a drunk’s eyes saw the fight.
And he claimed to see my lover in his flight
Only he was with me that night. 

Nobody knows it’s me under the veil at his grave
For my lover stayed silent, so it was he who they hanged.
Was it for my honor? Or loyalty to his old friend?
The same friend, I suspect, who likely caused his end.

My Music Journal 2025: April 2, 2025

 

Wednesday, April 2, 2025

Time: 9:05 PM
Song: Dig a Pony
Artist: The Beatles
Mode of Consumption: Listening to MP3s on the way home from Write On Meeting.

Link to Song: https://open.spotify.com/track/4OUmlC67FoPLvQNuE5C7kF?si=6a3ca6cf33a14ed4

We discussed a short story at Write On tonight called “The Pub With No Beer,” by Kevin Barry. It’s a story of a COVID era Irish bar and its third-generation owner, who is haunted by the voices of past patrons.

It was a chance to look at another approach to writing a ghost story. It also challenged us to think about places where we are reminded of people who are either no longer alive or maybe we just don’t see anymore.

When this song came on during the drive home, I thought about my grandparents and spending almost every Sunday afternoon and evening there when we were growing up.

Sometime in junior high, I bought the cassette of the “Let It Be” album, and while I already knew the major singles off this album, it was lesser-known songs like “Dig a Pony,” “Two of Us” and “I’ve Got a Feeling,” that caught my ear.

They were grittier and vibrant and rawer than the more sentimental and at times overproduced songs like the title track and “The Long and Winding Road.” They also seemed to fly in the face of the narrative that this was a breakup album. Instead, in these songs, I hear a band that could still have fun when they stripped away the pretense and bullshit.

I have a vivid memory of laying on the couch in my grandparents’ den with my Walkman and earphones on and listening to the album over and over on one Sunday. While part of me probably wanted to be out in the world, I also relished this cocoon of family that surrounded me every week. It was a gritty, vibrant and raw happiness. No pretense. No over production. Just some TV. Some card playing. A few laughs. Cold cut sandwiches and Jello.

My Music Journal 2025: April 1, 2025

 

Tuesday, April 1, 2025

Time: 4:25 PM 
Song: Dirty Life and Times
Artist: Warren Zevon 
Mode of Consumption: Listening to MP3s on the way home from Iowa City.

Link to song: https://open.spotify.com/track/1BVkQFYTWncoTjOiGLtqnR?si=0156572d0a524a2e

On July 3, 2019, we traveled to Iowa City early in the morning. I didn’t eat a bite, only had a few sips of water. By mid-morning I was adorned in a flimsy paper gown, led down a hallway, hoping my rear end wasn’t sticking out, and into a surgical room.

I was directed to a bed, told to lay down, and a herd of people started hooking me to machines and checking my vitals. 

“Ok, we’re going to give you something to relax,” a man said. Those were the last words I remember. I woke late in the afternoon in a different room with a female nurse’s face above me. 

“Have they started yet?” I asked. 

Of course, it was all over. I had been contorted into a pose described as “inverted beach chair position” in the documentation I’d receive later, my skin was sliced open at the base of my neck, my vocal chords were moved, and one-half of my thyroid was removed. 

A few tests, a single night stay in the hospital, and I was on my way back to normal. 

Now, we travel to Iowa City once a year, and they do an ultrasound, and they read tests, and so far, everything has been fine. 

We made that trip today. The results of the ultrasound weren’t ready when we met with the surgeon, and she ordered some blood work, so over the next few days we’ll find out if I am still firing on all cylinders without any worrying excesses growing on my remaining half a thyroid. 

We also went to the mall, ate a couple slices of pizza, and wandered around a Barnes & Noble. Tomorrow, it’s back to work.