The Silence...

Andrew Belle - Make It Without You

Silence terrifies me. Seriously, and absolutely terrifies. I can not, for the life of me, think of a time when I have been surrounded by silence. If I found myself in the house alone with the t.v.s miraculously off, I would hear the sound of the dogs or I would quickly break out my walkman/iPod/radio and put something on. If somehow I wound up awake when the rest of the family was a sleep, I'd hear the steady off-beat snores from everyone in the house.  If I found myself in the middle of a glen in the woods surrounded by no one I'd hear the life and the wind around me. In a car with no radio, I'd hear the hum of the road and the roar of the engine. Even in my solitude there has always been sound.

Until this past week.

My father was the ultimate champion of a game without a name, a game we referred to as "Name the Artist." And that was the game. Walk in to a store, catch a commercial, turn on the radio and 95% of the time Dad would look at the people he was with, pick the person he thought was least likely to get it right and pose the question as a challenge. "Name the artist."

By the time I was 15, I was right the vast majority of the time. The last five years, I've been right so often my Dad stopped asking as a challenge but as an opening to a conversation to talk about music as it was, what it turned in to and who or what could save it. (He didn't have high hopes, and all of my offerings fell short... but then what can a 20 something pop hipster say to a 50 something rocker that's meaningful?)  To know enough of music to win at this game that often, I've spent the majority of my life with a radio on, my nose in a music magazine, or watching music documentaries.

So when he passed, I wracked my brain for an appropriate song to be the first song I heard to try to fill the void he left.  He was forever talking about the lasting power of classical music, he loved the Eagles, Dan Folgerberg, Pink Floyd and Supertramp, his song for me was by Cat Stevens, I've got a slew of favorite bands who all have fitting songs about loss.  I was wracking my brain for the one that was just right.  I couldn't come up with it in the time it took to get from the hospital room to the car. I couldn't come up with it for at least a solid 24 hours. Somehow, my never silent family managed to not play the radio or sing until a day or two later when we went shopping and finally turned on the radio.


The rest of the week was rather the same. Periods of silence punctuated by ill-fitting songs and stories.
I've never been afraid of turning on the radio, I've never been afraid of having a song that didn't fit get stuck in my head. I've never embraced the silence for fear of sound -even the right sound- tearing apart whats left of my heart.  But then, I've never been this alone.  

BBQs

Yesterday I met up with a friend I really should talk to more often for a barbeque to celebrate the end of summer and the beginning of the fall. I thought of grabbing the camera but put it down to instead rejoice in being fully in the moment of it. In hind sight, I should have grabbed the camera. 
Jen's home is lovely. Despite the number of men who spend their free time hanging around the living room playing the Playstation 3 (which is pretty sweet) she's managed to make a really cozy and welcoming home (complete with Hanson and Michael Jackson decor - and really anyone who knows her knows that it wouldn't be her house without).  That alone would have been cause enough for a few great pics, but the view driving to her house was breath taking.
The drive takes me through the north county of St. Louis (translate that as "the ghetto") and upward in to what works out to be undeveloped land. Nothing but wooded marshes lining the Mississippi. It was breath taking.  
It's left me ready for another road trip this November, south again to Tulsa. The wooded hills at sunset is what calls me to the road. It's a trip worth while when on the other side is a friend or dozen and a good cup of coffee.
Jen's barbecue was amazing. Mad props to Dan for the skill on the grill. Between the grill and the muffin chocolate chip cookies we can forgive Ethan's terrible rapping.
Song of the Day: The Ladder by Andrew Belle

The writer of one of my favorite blogs got bored one weekend and with some help from her roommates whipped up that music video. The song's been stuck in my head since I saw the video, it's a great by product of reading a blog. :)