so i lied
this will be quick.
so i'm in new york, which isn't where i grew up, but almost. i was born here, and lived in a connecticut suburb most of my life. so i have all these almost-memories floating around my otherwise occupied mind, just below the surface.
you know how that happens?
i'm reminded of trips to new york -- there were many, but not so many that i can't keep track of them all -- which means i'm being reminded of childhood, which i think maybe opens the floodgates to remembering all sorts of things i otherwise forgot.
i'm on the 21st floor. there was just a commotion outside, down below, which doesn't mean anything in new york really. it's just...um, among the hubub, i realized a flute was playing.
why? how? who knows.
but it was. and it was playing when johnny comes marching home. and i don't know if it was the song in general, or that rendition, or that it was being played on a flute, but i was suddenly -- shockingly -- reminded...
we played that song one year when i was in marching band.
i did not ever need to remember that.
but i did. and then just when i was contemplating whether or not my mind was remembering this fact simply because i was in the vicinity of my hometown, just when i was thinking maybe i was just over-familiarizing things here in the northeast, the flute played something else.
it played our high school fight song.
i can't even begin to know what to do with that.
so i'm in new york, which isn't where i grew up, but almost. i was born here, and lived in a connecticut suburb most of my life. so i have all these almost-memories floating around my otherwise occupied mind, just below the surface.
you know how that happens?
i'm reminded of trips to new york -- there were many, but not so many that i can't keep track of them all -- which means i'm being reminded of childhood, which i think maybe opens the floodgates to remembering all sorts of things i otherwise forgot.
i'm on the 21st floor. there was just a commotion outside, down below, which doesn't mean anything in new york really. it's just...um, among the hubub, i realized a flute was playing.
why? how? who knows.
but it was. and it was playing when johnny comes marching home. and i don't know if it was the song in general, or that rendition, or that it was being played on a flute, but i was suddenly -- shockingly -- reminded...
we played that song one year when i was in marching band.
i did not ever need to remember that.
but i did. and then just when i was contemplating whether or not my mind was remembering this fact simply because i was in the vicinity of my hometown, just when i was thinking maybe i was just over-familiarizing things here in the northeast, the flute played something else.
it played our high school fight song.
i can't even begin to know what to do with that.
I think you're missing the most obvious explanation...
ReplyDeleteA flute player from your high school band is currently outside playing for quarters. You should totally invite her up to your room for a shower and a tax-write-off room service meal.
Have the concierge bring up a roll of aluminum foil so the flutist may repair her hat.
I had something witty to say, but jester made me laugh so hard I completely forgot it.
ReplyDeleteOn On, my friend!
JC
maybe you are having auditory hallucinations
ReplyDeletePerhaps you never had the pleasure of singing the song "When Johnny Came Marching Home". To fill in the blanks for you, I can still hear the alto section singing "where are the legs? WHERE are the LEGS???" even now. Some things are better left to High School, I say.
ReplyDeleteAs for the likelyhood of hearing your HS fight song on the street in Manhattan? All I can say is:
Huh, Ole Ole Oh
Huh, Ole Ole Oh
Huh, Ole Ole Oh
M V High Woo!!!
Into each life a little high school must fall. Enjoy the memories - it's nothing but life and times until you forget.
This is brilliant:
ReplyDelete"Into each life a little high school must fall."
I will be attending LT's ten-year high school reunion in late August, in SOUTH TEXAS. I get the feeling that this will be a lot of high school. With a lot of sweat attached.