I must have been a junior in high school, to be fair, I can't nail it down because I had the same teacher, Ann Kortman, for English, a couple of times and I've reached the point where I can no longer list every class I took each year. Did you do that through college and beyond? I did. I'd be sitting there and I'd just roll through each year of high school (really starting in 7th grade) and I'd mentally list each period, teacher, and class for each grade. I can still get close on teachers and classes, and can name a couple "homerooms". I cannot though, for the life of me, recall the year I wrote a 4 page stream of consciousness paper in Ann Kortman's class. Junior year seems right.
I can remember that it started with an AC/DC lyric, which was odd as I wasn't an AC/DC fan. This speaks to the ubiquity of their 1980 hit Back in Black, that some 7 years later it was the first line that entered my mind for this assignment. "Back in black, hit the sack, it's been too long, I'm glad to be back." A perfunctory google tells me I got it wrong. For the purpose of the assignment. It didn't matter. We were to write whatever came to our minds for 30 mins or so. I filled 4 plus pages.
Thirty-six years I remember that was the first line of what seems to be my primary mode of writing. Pick a random thought. Follow it down and see where it leads me.
I also remember it as the first time anyone said “This is good. Your writing is good.”
Thanks for that Mrs. Kortman.
//
Of late these pages have been filled with strife and anger. I won't revisit it today. You can scan back if you so choose. Nay, today I typed in "Welcome to the Occupation" as a random title and followed my first random thoughts. The title ominous, meaningless and dramatic. A perfect start to a stream of consciousness.
The streams these days are tighter, less random. I can follow them around. Make a little sense. Get you to go back to high school and see if you can remember who you had for senior year home room. I had Coach Quinlan for "religion". His class the best year of religion as he attempted to teach us how to meditate. This quickly devolved into mostly sleeping through first period. Put a lay person in charge of religion at the Catholic school and that's what you get. Bless up coach. Bless up.
//
What kind of occupation would I even be welcoming you too? One where I occupy your mind? Despite my want for that, I'm not that good.
Turns out that it's a song off REM's 5th album, Document. The one with "The One I Love" and "It's the End of the World As We Know It" on it. The latter being the greatest stream of consciousness song ever written, if such an accolade exists. Right now, if you're of an age and fandom, your reciting a line from it. More likely than not. "Mountains set in a line, LEONARD BERNSTEIN!" If you want 3-4 minutes of happiness in your life, follow this link and go listen to it. It's still all you thought it was. If you've never heard it, well. You're welcome.
I realized this past week that somehow REM is maybe my favorite band of all time. Well 1983-92 REM. A stretch that gave the world their best 8 albums. I don't say things like "favorite" a lot, so this realization was a surprise to me as well.
From 1985-1995 the music world was rapt in a sort of violent tribalism. Choices must be made, identities were forged. I started my "serious music listening" in my freshman year or so. Gone were the carefree 80's where one could bounce between The Reflex by Duran Duran, land on Purple Rain for a bit, breakdance poorly to Freakazoid and come full circle to Rebel Yell. No. The 80's and I got serious, and overly earnest rock and roll behemoth, U2 became my language of choice.
Lines in the sand were drawn and somehow, in my little slice of Southern Mississippi, it was either REM or U2 as the "most important college rock band". We also freely interchanged "progressive rock" into this description, stealing the term that had previously been used to describe RUSH and YES and Emerson Lake and Palmer. “Alternative” wouldn't arrive in earnest until 1991.
Hills were chosen to die upon. U2 was mine. Well, until I started playing guitar.
My junior year I started futzing around with friend Jay's guitar, learning poorly, the intro to Sunday Bloody Sunday...and I mean poorly. I got my first guitar in the spring of '88 and fumbled around learning pieces of U2 songs. The Edge was why I owned a guitar. He was also why I couldn't play any of his songs.
If I am honest with myself this is a retroactive memory of being some sort of ADHD. Me, too impatient to spend the time to learn the guitar properly, instead bouncing from a U2 riff out of a tablature book, immediately losing interest when it became difficult and going to something else. That something else became REM songs. This is telling as I had the color by numbers version of one of their albums in these tablatures but when faced with learning it, I instead chose a short cut. Or moved along to something else shiny.
I was thankful for Peter Buck’s mostly chord based songs. I could play along, despite my insistence that they weren't as good as U2. I also didn't learn any of these songs to the note. Close enough became my go to. Just yesterday I picked up a guitar and was playing along to an REM song and when faced with a part I didn't know. Just glossed it over and moved on. I'd be lying to you if I said this doesn't bother me immensely. I mean not immensely enough to go learn it correctly. But. You know. Immensely enough.
Sometime in maybe 1989 the shift from U2 to REM began. I don't think I ever once considered REM to be my favorite band of all time until maybe the last couple of months. I know I've mentioned them in these pages many times but in my mind they were like the background music of my life. I don't know much about the band and I don't listen to anything past 1992's Automatic for the People.
I can listen to any of those first 8 albums and probably listen to one of them a week. A blanket of the past. Nostalgia and goodness.
Of all the songs and albums, Document is my least favorite. It's somehow too polished. The kudzu of Reckoning stripped off for audible lyrics and heavily gated drums. A little too radio friendly.
The second song on Document is Welcome to the Occupation. I can tell you with assurance that I've never once said "I really want to listen to Welcome to the Occupation." I just read the lyrics of it, and knew much of it. Telling for a song I cared nothing about.
A refrain at the end saying what I scream from the inside on the daily.
Listen to me.
Listen to me.
Listen to me.
#hugsandhi5s
After hearing U2's "War" I borrowed an acoustic guitar from a relative and tried playing the riff in "Sunday Bloody Sunday." I'd seen and heard it played by an older friend who was also beginning his guitar journey. I shed a few tears the first time I attempted to play that iconic riff, nearly gave up, but decided I would not quit. Eventually, with much practice, it got easier. Along the way I found strumming along with Peter Buck which was both fun and confidence-building. Thanks for your post and for reading my comment.
Pilgrimage for me. Don’t know why. Maybe b/c if I recall correctly buck keeps calling for you to
“Take your turn!” That was encouraging as a 15-20 year old