nostalgia runs rampant in pop culture
i've noticed lately that in almost every genre of music that i listen to (rock, pop, country, r&b, the list goes on and on... and on...) someone somewhere is singing about the town they grew up in and how it's not the same anymore, or the people they grew up with and how they've changed. from trisha yearwood...
"screen door flapping in the wind
same old house i grew up in
i can't believe i'm back again
after all these years away...
the georgia rain on a jasper county clay
couldn't wash away the way i love you to this day
the old dirt road's paved over now
nothing here is the same
except for the georgia rain"
maybe this has always been a popular theme in song writing, or maybe it's just that i'm presently paying attention to it. when i traveled back to massachusettes for my grandma's funeral (see post 'to leone'), i was overwhelmed with memories of my childhood. and now that my grandma is gone, i have no ties to the places i spent a majority of my formative years.
when i moved to minnesota in '96 for college, i wasn't running away from anything. at least, i don't think i was running, but i don't think i ever even looked back. i was very much done with that season of my life. even now, i very rarely think about the town i grew up in (cornwall, ny) or the places i spent most of my childhood summers (queen lake, ma; monadnock bible camp, nh; pilgrim pines, nh). i figured those places would always be there for me to pick and choose when i would acknowledge their place in the weaving of my history. the whole time i was in massachusettes, i kept thinking 'this is the last time i'll drive on this road'... 'this is the last time i'll be at this lake'... 'this is the last time i'll see this house'. it was a lot more painful for me than i ever expected it to be. add to that the fact that my parents are nearing retirement age and will soon leave the house i grew up in. i hope i can learn to say goodbye before i am forced to again...
"this is where i grew up
i think the present owner fixed it up
i never knew we ever went without
the second floor is hard for sneakin’ out
remember the old arcade
blew every dollar that we ever made
the cops hated us hangin’ out
they say somebody went and burned it down
we used to listen to the radio
and sing along with every song we’d know
we said someday we’d find out how it feels
to sing to more than just the steering wheel
every memory of looking out the back door
i had the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
it’s hard to say, it’s time to say it
goodbye, goodbye
every memory of walking out the front door
i found the photo of the friend that i was looking for
it’s hard to say, it’s time to say it
goodbye, goodbye
i miss that town
i miss their faces
you can’t erase, you can’t replace it
i miss it now
i can’t believe it
so hard to stay, too hard to leave it
if i could relive those days
i know the one thing that would never change
look at this photograph
every time I do it makes me laugh
every time I do it makes me..."
"screen door flapping in the wind
same old house i grew up in
i can't believe i'm back again
after all these years away...
the georgia rain on a jasper county clay
couldn't wash away the way i love you to this day
the old dirt road's paved over now
nothing here is the same
except for the georgia rain"
maybe this has always been a popular theme in song writing, or maybe it's just that i'm presently paying attention to it. when i traveled back to massachusettes for my grandma's funeral (see post 'to leone'), i was overwhelmed with memories of my childhood. and now that my grandma is gone, i have no ties to the places i spent a majority of my formative years.
when i moved to minnesota in '96 for college, i wasn't running away from anything. at least, i don't think i was running, but i don't think i ever even looked back. i was very much done with that season of my life. even now, i very rarely think about the town i grew up in (cornwall, ny) or the places i spent most of my childhood summers (queen lake, ma; monadnock bible camp, nh; pilgrim pines, nh). i figured those places would always be there for me to pick and choose when i would acknowledge their place in the weaving of my history. the whole time i was in massachusettes, i kept thinking 'this is the last time i'll drive on this road'... 'this is the last time i'll be at this lake'... 'this is the last time i'll see this house'. it was a lot more painful for me than i ever expected it to be. add to that the fact that my parents are nearing retirement age and will soon leave the house i grew up in. i hope i can learn to say goodbye before i am forced to again...
"this is where i grew up
i think the present owner fixed it up
i never knew we ever went without
the second floor is hard for sneakin’ out
remember the old arcade
blew every dollar that we ever made
the cops hated us hangin’ out
they say somebody went and burned it down
we used to listen to the radio
and sing along with every song we’d know
we said someday we’d find out how it feels
to sing to more than just the steering wheel
every memory of looking out the back door
i had the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
it’s hard to say, it’s time to say it
goodbye, goodbye
every memory of walking out the front door
i found the photo of the friend that i was looking for
it’s hard to say, it’s time to say it
goodbye, goodbye
i miss that town
i miss their faces
you can’t erase, you can’t replace it
i miss it now
i can’t believe it
so hard to stay, too hard to leave it
if i could relive those days
i know the one thing that would never change
look at this photograph
every time I do it makes me laugh
every time I do it makes me..."
posted by Anonymous at 5:47 PM
2 Comments:
I struggle with the goodbyes that come before I've learned to say hello . . . today you have reminded me to be intentional about my hello's . . .
"i miss that town
i miss their faces
you can’t erase, you can’t replace it
i miss it now
i can’t believe it
so hard to stay, too hard to leave it"
something a friend said recently made me realize that part of what I'm facing is that what I miss never actually existed. I miss what I hoped for. I miss what I'd projected onto my life. I couldn't say goodbye because I didn't even know there was a goodbye to say, nor that I was taking the first steps of that goodbye. Now the goodbye is just as hard. Facing this "reality" without my hoped-for things is raw, hardness. The words of this song reminded me of all this stuff swirling inside.
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