Last night I was feeling nostalgic, not unusual for me my favorite playlist on my ipod is full of old jazz standards mixed in with music from the ’70’s and ’80’s and a very few current ones. However, last night I was in the mood for something completely different. Supertramp. Not Crime of the Century but Breakfast in America, I am an ’80’s girl after all.
When I was young I used to spend summers at my friends cottage on Go Home Lake. Our fathers were friends when they were teenagers, they were rowing buddies, you’ve heard me talk about my dad’s rowing buddies before, they all stayed in touch through the years and all us kids grew up together forming life long friendship bonds. We’d visit each others cottages in the summer and ski in the winter, Christmas tree hunting and usually a few other get together’s though out the year.
This one summer my friend was into Supertramp. Usually it was the Beatles she was obsessed with, therefor, I was as well, she’s two years older than me, I had to emulate someone didn’t I? But for this post, it’s the summer of Supertramp I’m remembering.
This particular summer we spent a week at their cottage, and it rained almost the entire time. We sat around and played game after game of backgammon, ate peaches and listened to Breakfast in America, over and over and over again. This was back in the day when we had vinyl instead of MP3’s, my friend had a cassette tape that someone had made for her of the record, I’m pretty sure we wore it out.
For some reason last night something triggered a memory of this time and I just had to hear this music. For me it really stands the test of time, I found myself washing dishes singing along, impressed that even after all these years, I was hitting all the right beats and all the lyrics. I guess it really sunk into my subconscious that summer, oh, and the year after that I played it at home.
Immediately, that summer came flooding back to me and I was lost in the memories of the warm rain hitting the wood of the dock and the smell the water gets in the rain, the peaches, so ripe the juice running down our hands as we ate them by the twos, all the backgammon games we played and the distinctive voice of Roger Hodgson cutting through the air.
Probably why we prefer to listen to “old” music and the “kids” today don’t relate to what we listen to, it evokes happy old memories of times, places, and situations. In this case, nostalgia heaped upon us in waves of British rockers who want to find kippers in Texas. I popped onto Facebook after the dishes were done to find that another friend from that time, who has moved to Florida was at a “Supertramp” concert, actually I think it was only one of the singers. What a weird coincidence.
Time to make new memories, and Supertramp will still be locked away in my heart and mind. Anytime I feel like it I can call up those days by just listening to a track of their music, how amazing is that?
Dreaming Big from the East Coast,