Conversations and Revelations With Amy

I know from experience that not everyone feels attachment to their animals in a strong indescribable way like others do. I am an animal lover and feel very strongly about my relationships with all of them. They are my babies. Truly.  My Tabby cat, Wolfie, has been with me 15 years. He was my first babe that I got when I lived in a co-op during college. He has known me and my husband from the very start of our relationship. He was my first cat ever. We had always had dogs, Westies, in my family growing up. As in any long relationship, I know his expressions and behavioral nuances. I know what that deep stare from across the room means. It may be just a raise of an eyebrow but I know the difference between his saying I don’t feel well than the stare of  I am mad at you for leaving me all day.  I also know that at first he did not approve when we brought home a wily shih tzu from the pound. Greta was the dog that looked like Grover as she sat inside the cage at the Town Lake Shelter. Paint in her hair and mats all over her body from the home she had just been abandoned from. They told the shelter that it cost too much to feed her. This little 9 month old puppy was terrified and abused. As soon as we let her off the leash, she ran over to Kevin and sat in his lap. She was not tempted to run around the yard, she wanted to sit in his lap. He looked up at me and said, “Oh” in such a way I knew our search was over. I was hesitant.

Greta and I immediately started bonding on trips to go see Kevin, who lived an hour and a half away at the time. She slowly started making her way onto my lap as I drove. Finally, I allowed it. She curled up satisfied and I could not resist this strange little dog. We started to know each other. With little nods, face rubs and intimate spooning in my bed at night…she stole my heart completely. After years, we just knew each other so well. If I was unhappy, she knew. She would stop playing or wandering in the yard to come and sit on my lap or kiss my face. She knew her mama. This bond grew more and more over the 14 years we were together.

I would not feel quite content until I had walked through the door, seen her and greeted her.  I wrote songs to her about my fear of one day being without her. From the time she turned ten, I worried about losing her. Kevin worried that I would not do well when that time came and even mentioned that maybe I would need counseling to prepare. I knew when that time came, it would not go well. Greta and Wolfie had been with us from the beginning. It would be an end of an era. A life I would not want to know. That day came. I felt a kind of primitive grief I had never known. My body shrieked with inconsolable sadness and despair. I was even taken aback at the immense sadness.

Ok, sorry to drag you into the depths of this story. The point is, if you have lost someone, you will understand. I turned to music as therapy like I always did. “How Can I Tell You” by Cat Stevens was our song.  A great song that says it all and helps one through the hardest times. I searched for many but this one helps the most. I think of her always and this song is the lullaby that soothes and sings out to my baby. Check it out.

Oh my, I am going down a memory lane. There are many but this one is particularly great. XTC’s “Dear God”. Man, when I first heard this song I was so moved. Questioning religion, this song was thrilling to me. I was raised a good Catholic girl. I attended  Our Lady Of Mount Carmel in Virginia. I was there long enough to be brainwashed to some extent. My sisters were 4 and 5 years older than me. Enough of a difference in ages to be worlds apart. They were dating boys and I was being schooled in all that was sinful. I caught my sister making out one day with her boyfriend and I told her she was going to hell. I really did. Crazy. Three years in that school taught me well and that most things were evil. It freaked my sisters out. Afterward, it freaked me out. One year out of that place had me sneaking out in England, where we lived for my eighth grade year, to drink beer and flirt with boys. Some things just do not take.

What rocked my world was when my mom said to me one day in 9^th grade, that she believed the bible was a gathering of stories to live by, not necessarily the truth or history. I was amazed. Raised to believe that the bible was factual, I was sent reeling. I had so many questions in Catholic school that our teacher, a nun, got frustrated with me and sent me to the priests to discuss my inquiries. There I happened to get Father Norbert. He was an aging priest who patiently listened to my doubts about God. His words have always stayed with me. I was lucky to have found him. He said God is whatever and whoever created us. No BS about the man with the beard in the sky. Whatever and whoever created us? That meant we are here by something that made us. I could not deny that. Something did create us. Big bang? Random evolution?  I could buy into “whatever or whoever”. Father Norbert was the first to open my eyes to accepting that we do not know anything really but we are still amazed.

I went to college in Tx from my little school in Germany and met a friend who exposed me to this song. I was blown away. The song said it exactly. I may not believe in you and these stories but I wear my heart on my sleeve, just in case. Moving. Powerful. Check it out.

If you know me at all, you know that music is one of the big loves of my life. I know many people love music but then, even more so, there are people who live and breathe through music. I know these people when I meet them and quite often if we have more than one occasion to hang out, we are drawn to each other in this understanding. Like addicts at a secret meeting, we want to share our intense desire and compare notes. Might we share common interests in this? Can I trust you and your tastes after our initial interviews to give me constant recommendations? “Oh my god, try this… it is good, right?” “I got more where that comes from.” “When you find something that thrills you, email me so I can listen.”

I know when I like something I am listening to. I have this tendency to stop breathing. It is a strange effect but I find myself holding my breath almost to hear the sound more, to get closer to the notes, to the beats, to the words. If you love music, you know what I mean.

I thought everyone was like this until I started meeting people who, when they say, “oh I like everything”, really means that nothing particular stands out to them or they just love music that  they can dance to with their girlfriends at a club. (shoes off, pantyhosed feet and purses piled in the middle). “Oh my god, this is so awesome”. Ooh, I just did it. I sounded like the music snob. I am really not. Well, not as much as some people are. I actually have a great appreciation for many kinds of music. I have a majority that falls into certain genres like the ever generic term of alternative and indie, but some Spanish influenced music like the Gipsy Kings can leave me dizzy from holding my breath.  Or some Big Band sounds from the 30’s and 40’s find me dancing around the kitchen, dreaming of what must have been more pure times. It reminds me of a time that has been created in my mind but not ever experienced. That is ok; it is as real as if I had been in those dance halls or in a smoky little club listening to Ella croon. Or you may even catch me pounding the steering wheel to the Spanish, rap, rock sounds of Ozomatli. I love NIN, Sinead, Band of Horses, Damien Rice, The Smiths, The Dismemberment Plan, Modest Mouse and on and on. Bottom line: if it has passion and emotion that rings true to me, bring it on. I respect it and I respect what moves you. Try me, I may love it or I may make a mental note that you and I probably will not be swapping recommendations in the future.

Music is absolute therapy. I have this funny jukebox in my mind. I was unaware of it until one day I realized what I was doing. I may be feeling something and all of a sudden I would be singing a song that expressed what I was feeling. This was an unconscious action. Sometimes I would not even know what I was feeling and then I would be singing some random song from my childhood, maybe a song my Dad would play. Maybe some Rod Stewart song or even Anne Murray would play and, upon analysis, I  would realize the words described what I was feeling. I would not try to think of a song, it would just come out without any will to conjure it up. I was amazed. My mind was keeping track of lyrics and matching them up with my emotions. What the hell? I think it is the craziest thing and a special thing to me. Now I pay attention when I come out with some random Willie, Air Supply or Depeche Mode song. I start listening to the lyrics and sure enough it fits the mood. I have to watch that I am not too loud or I get the puzzled look and the inevitable question, why are you singing “Elvira” or, are you humming “Let’s Get Physical”?

So ok, you get it. I love love love music. I want to share and learn. What I would like to do is to start giving recommendations of music that I love from the past and now. No boundaries or rules on genre. I would really love to hear yours too. Truly. What makes you hold your breath?