Youth and Music.

On my way to class some Thursday ago, my iPod played a song that caused my mind to slip from the mundane sidewalk littered with snow and dead trees to a time when I thought that I was invincible, with the sun beating and music blaring. The song was "A" by Cartel from the CD, Chroma. This disc of hope was constantly flowing through the speakers of my 1999 Toyota Solara in the latter half of my formative high school years. The song is an amalgamation of all of the other tunes on the album, a sort of mash-up if you will. It's funny, the lyrics that I loved back in the day were the ones I was living, and the lyrics I love now are the ones I have lived.

"Our days were numbered by nights on too many rooftops

They said we're wasting our lives

But oh, at least we know that if we died

We lived with passion

They said we burned so bright"

I can see these moments play out in front of me, like my eyes are a projector, and I'm watching my own life in front of me. I see my gang of friends and me climbing up old Mrs. Wilson's television antenna to sit on her roof and watch our small town fireworks. I see myself sneaking out the back door at midnight to take a moonlit stroll with the girl next door.

I realize that I'm not even twenty and still quite spry and youthful, but I feel like an era is over. When I was fifteen, I also loved "Soco Amaretto Lime" by Brand New. Lyrics of choice?

"I'm gonna stay eighteen forever
So we can stay like this forever
And we'll never miss a party
cause we keep them going constantly
And we'll never have to listen
to anyone about anything
cause it's all been done and it's all been said
we're the coolest kids and we take what we can get"

I wasn't eighteen, and now I'm past eighteen. It's odd to think about. I'll never get that age back. Oh well, I'll stay nineteen forever. And twenty forever. And twenty-one forever. Ah, youth.

You're just jealous 'cause we're young and in love.

For the grand finale, The Beach Boys. Pet Sounds. Best ode to youth of all time. Ah, this song reeks of being strapped in the passenger's seat with my dad driving to our cabin on the lake. It's even more relevant now.