Things of Old

This blog post came to be after I had a conversation with my brother during the customary dish washing after supper. For all the house's I've grown up in we have never had a dishwasher.

The conversation started off innocently enough with me asking my brother who was the band that performed the song Hold On Loosely. You see, while waiting for my Mom to finish up in the post office I heard it come on the radio. As I've mentioned before I'm getting back into old rock music from the 70's to 90's. But apparently my question wasn't so innocent because my brother answered with "38 Special does it. Why you like that gay song anyway?"

Now I'm sure I don't have to say it, but in any family musical tastes are probably as varied as the choice of pizza toppings. And there's nothing wrong with that! It's just another thing that makes us unique as individuals. But it can also create friction can't it? Especially on a long road trip. In my family my brother listens to current rock music, rap and pop while I listen to 90's country and old rock and my parents? They listen to Christian music. I cured this clash of music with my iPod turns to full volume a long time ago but...there's still that inevitable time when your musical choices and someone else's meet a cross roads and one of you crashes into the other.

Getting back to my conversation with my brother, after I asked him why he thought the song was gay his response was "because it's old." Obviously that isn't much of an argument, hell I was about ready to give up myself! But I couldn't. Personally, I can't stand the stuff he listens to - I'll admit, I don't even know the name for it! - so why should he criticize my musical tastes? So I asked him...what's wrong with old songs? And he countered with that because I'm not old - I'll be twenty this month - I should listen to music from my time. Well apparently he didn't get the memo because most of the music that is from my time...is mass-marketed, media-flavored, substance-less junk. In fact, if it wasn't for a musical savior called Pandora, I wouldn't have stumbled upon the plethora of artists I've encountered over a years time. Artists are being buried alive beneath the high gloss and plastic covers of media-touted artists who are all flash on the outside but don't have anything to offer as far as talent. Ironic isn't it? Those with actual talent to speak of are shoved out of the limelight while less deserving artists are escorted on stage where they can bask in the glory. Whatever, I'm done trying to fix radio. You know what my fix is? Shut the damn thing off, that's what it is.

Anyway, I sort of derailed myself there but the trains on the right track now. So moving on! After I told my brother all this, at least the part of today's music - mainly country music - being substance-less, talentless garbage fed like rotten food to the birds he asked me why I like old music then. So I explained to him how the think the 90's was one of the most brilliant times in country music. Some of the greatest songs and artists were at their all time peak where they could sing hallelujah from the mountain tops and people would listen! Some of my favorite artists thrived in the 90's, before Nashville gouged its eyes out and reached down into the troughs of the talent pool and dug up the slime stuck to the bottom and called it talent. Although most of those artists have long ago faded like the once red siding on a barn now bleached to a silvery gray, I still remember them. Why? Because unlike most of the world - at least that's how it seems to me - has fallen prey to the old adage quantity over quality. Why? I know for a fact I'm not the only one still listening to old music, but sometimes it sure feels that way. Also, as I pointed out to my brother, it's not really that old. So what if most of the stuff on my iPod is as old as I am? It just goes to show how pathetic the music industry really is, when I have to dig that far back to find the good stuff.

I could talk all day about music, as I'm sure those of you who read my blog have come to realize. I'm still not sure why I have such a penchant to do so. Maybe there's some clandestine passion there that I only partially realize. Or maybe I have more frustration to vent than I realized!

Anyway, now that I've talked about music, how about something different? Just as I love old music, so do I names. Yes, you heard me right. I said old names. There is nothing I love more than creating a story and inserting character names such as Lorna, Elynor, Harriet, Marlene, Leland, Luella...etc. Maybe some would argue that my name is old itself, I know it's not exactly one of those you hear all the time. But I just like old names for their uniqueness factor. My brother, of course, pokes fun at this as well. In my defense, with all these Stephanie's, Brittany's, Meagan's and Madison's running around...don't you want something that stands out? Wouldn't you rather have a name like Tempest or Lenora than something that's everyday? Maybe it's just me with that mentality but, when I create a character in a story, I invariably make them have this one unique quality that sets them apart. It could be a name, a personality trait, a physical attribute...whatever. But names are something I've always been fascinated with. So just remember, years down the road, when you pick up a book and notice the character has a strange, old-fashioned name...I probably wrote it.

Lastly, and this will come as no surprise to those who have been reading my blog long enough or know me well enough...I absolutely love old houses! I'm not just talking those built in the 1920's, because to me those are vintage, not really old. The old I'm thinking about are houses built in the 16 to 1800's. Salem, Massachusetts has long been a vacation dream of mine. After I learned that Salem has the largest concentration of 17th century homes. I can't even fathom walking through a house that was built three hundred plus years ago! History would be so close in every room. If those houses could talk there would be worlds to write about.

And some old houses do talk! It's called their character. You know, the doors that stick in humidity, the floorboards that sag, the pipes that groan, the wavy windowpanes, the scuffed baseboards...and so on. They're the little things that make an old house unique. The way I see it, there would nothing more boring than owning a new - or relatively new - house where everything works right and nothing squeaks, groans, slopes, leans, sags, sticks or at least every once in a while malfunctions. For some ludicrous reason I brought up this topic with my brother. Why you ask? I don' t know. It wasn't like I was expecting to win him over. He of the modern style furniture and newer homes because they're not as much work.

Please! Not as much work? That's what makes an old house interesting! Sure they're a lot of work, you have to paint, seal, level, replace, tighten, repaint, reseal, re level...you get the idea. But to me that would be so much more interesting than living in a house where everything functions perfectly. Give me the drafty wooden windows, the cold, sagging floors, the wooden siding needing painting, the patched roof that leaks. Give it all to me! Whenever I stumble upon a blog in which a couple - or anyone really - is restoring the house they're currently living in I think to myself man! They're living the dream! I have long since harbored a very special place in my heart for abandoned homes and historic homes in need of repair. To me they're like homeless animals. They just need that special person to love them and take care of them! Every time I see a house in disrepair I feel a fierce longing inside. A yearning to strip the pain from the woodwork, to save the rotten siding, to bring life back into its blatantly empty rooms. It would be extremely fulfilling to me if I could restore a house back to its original grandeur because I don't see it as just a house, but in fact I see it an empty vessel waiting for time to return to its doorstep once again.

I know, I know, you can picture me can't you? Sitting on the porch of my dilapidated, old house, listening to old music, sitting on antique Victorian furniture, working on a story where the main character's name is Agnus - I actually have a story like that - with my '69 Mustang sitting in the driveway. Well you know what? I don't have any problem with that picture! Because that's exactly what I want. The things of old...are who I am. I always tell people I was born a decade too late.

Whether you share one or all of my passions for things of old, I'd like to hear your story! As always I enjoy reading comments. Thanks for reading!