Sounds Of My Life: Elizabeth on the Bathroom Floor

The year was 1998, Electroshock Blues was just released, and my mind was effectively blown. Beautiful, clever, cynical yet hopeful pop songs. Wow. This guy was just my speed.

This song reminds me of a particularly awkward social moment in my life, which echoes many of the foot-in-mouth moments I have and will relive over and over again. Try as I might, in practical application, my gob just isn't as eloquent as my mind wants it to be.

At the record store, I absent-mindedly mention to one of the new hires that her name reminds me of a lyric in an Eels song. The song itself is beautiful and complex, but instead of going into all of that, I lquote a portion of it to her:

"My name's Elizabeth ... my life is shit and piss."

This girl was very much an Elizabeth, not Liz or Beth; Elizabeth to the core. I realize, immediately, as I say this that this was a horrible thing to say to someone I've just met; even though I didn't mean it to be derogatory or negative in any way. I was having a moment where I wanted to share the profundity of the tune with someone ... but ruined it. Horribly.

Fortunately she was a sweet-natured enough girl that she didn't seem phased ... but, even worse, I didn't apologize for my misstep. That was the weird thing about this moment, and so many others that I've lived since: I make these incredibly bone-headed comments, realizing immediately the unintended double entendre, but utter no word of apology largely because I just don't want to dig the whole deeper (a la Larry David).

I just go on with the conversation, hoping the slip is just ignored or that it just is understood that I realize what a putz I am. Instead, the whole world probably just sees me as the gigantic, unapologetic a-hole that I am.

Artist: The Eels


PS I finished E's autobiography a couple of days ago. It was just what I expected (this is a good thing).

Sounds Of My Life: Show Me a Little Shame

Back when I was a CD store-managin' music snob, I managed only two people that were older than me; both guys. One was a total misogynistic, undermining pain in the ass (think The Office's Dwight -- he's exactly the guy) and the other was a punk rock / hippie / stoner / drunk / raver kid named Mike Cornish.

I use the word kid, because he was in his early twenties ... even at my current age of 28, that's a kid.

That, and he was a completely reckless idiot. I mean, we're talking about a guy who always had money for illicit drugs, cigarettes and booze, yet -- daily -- still wore his preteen retainer which held an undersized false tooth in the hole where one of his incisors once resided. Because he didn't have the money to more permanently replace it. Or the insurance. Or maybe he just didn't care.

He was a fun reckless idiot nonetheless. He always kept us laughing with his shenanigans and vocal stylings of whatever happened to be playing over our sound system.

So, being a stoner, its no surprise that he loved Ben Harper. When Burn To Shine was released in 1999, nothing -- short of an outright veto by myself as the presiding manager on duty, which was exercised at least once or twice -- would stop him from putting that disc in at some point in his shift.

This song in particular was a favorite, and he'd often sing at the top of his lungs when restocking CDs, cleaning used game systems, vacuuming ... you name it.

So while this is an excellent soul torch song, instead of it reminding me of some melancholy romantic encounter; forever burned into my memory is Mike's infectious laugh, ridiculous sense of humor, silly little false tooth and ... to our surprise, pretty decent voice.

For a white boy.

Artist: Ben Harper and The Innocent Criminals

Sounds Of My Life: Raining In Baltimore

I can't hear this song and not think about Baltimore.

Not because the name of the city is in the title, but because it reminds me of a very specific moment in my life that just happened to be after a 3 day stay in the greater Baltimore / DC area.

I was traveling alone back to St. Louis, sitting in the middle seat of a three-seat row; the plane was shuffling toward the runway of Reagan National when this song seeps into my earbuds ... at a moment I least needed it to.

It struck me during the opening line so violently that it took every fiber of my being not to break down, sobbing, amongst the complete and total strangers who surrounded me.

The weekend, while generally a fun trip with friends, had been such a colossal failure on so many levels. Instead of a momentary escape from the disaster that was my life back in St. Louis, it ended up being just another painful reminder of how horribly bitter and meaningless life can be.

So here I was, life in shambles; sad song stinging very much in the foreground of what already felt like such a desolate, lonely existence ... stranger in a strange town, surrounded by strangers ... rain falling outside the window, one seat over to my right, four and an aisle to my left.

It rained, snowed, sleeted, every day that weekend; from the day I arrived up until well after I left.

Even if I wanted to skip the song over, I couldn't. The moment seemed too appropriate to ignore. The plane nosed homeward, no ... a house no longer a home. The moment suddenly was a glaring reminder of how I had to contend not only with my own heartbreak, new found borderline addictions, past failures and regrets, but also the heartache of knowing that it wasn't only my relationships that weren't immune to such devastation.

It represented the perfect moment of uncomfortable, unwarranted, unwelcome solitude; so eerily in tune with the song's theme, forget the spooky coincidence of the song title. And while instinct would rather leave me weeping for hours on end in response, much like my life at the time, I forced myself to suck it up.

To stare into the headrest of the seat in front of me, bite my lip, force those tears back ... and just let the moment pass.

One note at a time.

Artist: Counting Crows

This is a new feature section that I plan on recurring at least monthly, because I like the idea so much ... it just dawned on me in the car trip home from Ellisville this afternoon, when I realize how much of my life I relive through song.