The Land of the Delta Blues

So since there was nothing major this past week in sports (Super Bowl to come), there was nothing I felt passionate about to spend the time writing on. I could have always written about Syracuse basketball, but it’s a little early to start day dreaming about the post season possibilities for this years team. Instead, I wrote about this.

Have you ever stared out the window of a moving vehicle, be it a plane, train, or automobile while listening to some song and began day dreaming about a movie montage depicted in much the same way? You know, like then suddenly several old scenes from the person’s life play out while the actor stares off into the distance?

Well I’m not saying it has happened to me, I’m just saying…

…It happens…

Well it’s funny because people always associate music with moments in the lives, whether they are good or bad; songs an ex loved so you hate, songs that remind you of summer, of winter, of certain holidays, and moments you’ll never forget.

It never happens on purpose or by design. By pure chance a song happens to be playing, and it isn’t until later on, when you hear the song again, that you realize just what has happened. The song is now imprinted in your memory right along with the images, feelings, and sounds of the moment.

Last week I got a text message from Linz who said she was listening to “Walking in Memphis” on the radio and thought of me. The song became the official anthem for Linz, Susan, and I during our Sweet 16 road trip to Memphis in April. Although, in this case, I’m pretty sure we knew the song was eventually going to reach this level. Every time we stopped the car, for no matter the reason, Marc Cohen’s famous song was the first one played when everyone piled back into the car. We did it to remind ourselves of the mission at hand.

The images usually consists of random things like driving through the “hairy hills” of Kentucky, passing by “The World’s Greatest Flea Market” and “Dinosaur Land,” and especially walking down Beale Street and sipping on a beer at B.B. Kings while listening to some live blues music.

Sitting with the two of them in there crystallized the whole trip as we watched this great old band, featuring a 79-year-old on lead/rhythm guitar, belt out some tunes. Afterwards we stuffed ourselves with authentic Memphis BBQ, which we still talk about to this day. It was one of the most disgusting and delicious meals we’ve ever experienced.

We were all starving and decided to order an appetizer for all of us, BBQ nachos, but these weren’t just any nachos. This plate was piled high with chips, packed with chunks of BBQ chicken and dripping with two melted cheeses on top. Looking back, I’m not sure how our hearts did not stop beating right then and there. But luckily they did not and in our frenzy we cleaned the plate. Finishing our main dishes was a challenge after and I’m not sure anyone did, but we didn’t care. Those nachos were a little slice (huge helping) of heaven.

To go along with the greasy food binge, we ate fast food almost every day, including at least 2 stops at Sonic on the way down and back up to Syracuse. We still talk about that too…But not with the same fondness of the BBQ dinner.

But I think what I’ll remember most from my first road trip was traveling with two amazing friends and having a blast; touring the Gibson Guitar factory, painting the windows of my car with Otto, “Memphis or Bust,” and “Go Orange!,” Linz’s spider hand jumping around the car, and having the girls wake up to me screaming “Where the fuck are we, Janet?!” as we rolled back into Syracuse at about 3 in the morning (for the record, Janet was the GPS). I’m also reminded of our adventure every time I step into my car, christened Lucille, after our whirl-wind trip to Tennessee and back.

It was a trip that solidified a relationship, and created an amazing friendship.

If you stop and think about it, I’m sure everyone has some songs they can associate memories with. I now always put “Remember the Name” by Fort Minor with Big East basketball, and the 2006 Big East Championship where Gerry McNamara took the Orange on his back and led them to the title on an inspired run that will never be duplicated. “Running Down a Dream” by Tom Petty is my song for summer. I only picture rolling south on the highway toward Long Beach, windows down and music blasting. And of course, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention “Stronger” by Kanye West and the thought of Derek and I (aka Team Hollywood) dominating in beer pong.

I’m not a music aficionado by any means. I like loads of different music even though in conversation I say I listen to classic rock to make things easier, and can’t really tell you why I like one band and not a very similar band.

I just go by what my ears tell me.

But I think the most special songs are the ones when you can close your eyes and they do the telling all by themselves.