Okay, everyone, each and every one of you, especially you, those beautiful (and some not so beautiful) Syracuse residents. The day is February 18, 2011, and the weather is absolutely gorgeous. With the temperature at 50 degrees, the sun shining with barely any cloud cover, it is not the day to spend it indoors. The exception to this are all those dedicated to their jobs.
The point is not to take this for granted.
In the past few years, when each mid-February would come around, we would get slammed. This is especially true around and not much after Valentine’s Day. What we have to do now is just wait out March, April, and most of May. If we don’t get snow on Mother’s Day, we should be in the clear until late October or early November.
Since I will be talking about music for a little bit: The Early November. I was listening to one of the mixed CDs I made in college. A song came on, I said, “Oh! I remember this song!” aloud, and I could not think of the artist. For the life of me, I could not remember the name of this one whiny band which sounded pretty good to my ears about six years ago. There we go: The Early November. Thank you, Jim Keefe. If I had my own radio show, I’d break out one of their tunes and dedicate it to you. I am in the process of writing a music and college association entry, so we’ll leave any further digression on the back burner.
I love Syracuse. I will forever love Syracuse. It is an area of the world, a bold dot on a map to indicate a bigger city, where the residents are able to experience all four seasons. They allow us, when finally reaching those ages, to begin stories with “Remember when…” and say “those were the days.” We are able to separate our fond memories perfectly, because we associate with the seasons. We are automatically organized.
The best thing about having four separate seasons, we can understand people’s demeanor clearly. Like today, I needed gas and went to the gas station, obviously. There were so many people out driving and it would confuse someone not as familiar with West Genesee Street in time. Although it was about two-thirty, the traffic appeared as rush hour. The place was packed and I waited in line. A gentleman, I do mean that, was going straight to the gas shack and wanted to get by. Instead of honking and flailing his arms and mouthing an inappropriate phrase, the guy tapped on his horn to get my attention focused on his pointing to the parking spot. I backed up, he got through, he left the car and waved to me when I happened to look his way.
See: good mood.
With this nice weather comes not sunglasses–we get to wear these year-round for blinding sun or snow glare–but cracked windows! Yes, finally! The aura of oncoming summer is settling as fast as each snowflake is melting. Like myself, snowflakes are pretty white; to avoid getting sunburned, they melt.
Okay, that was a really dumb statement. I’m sorry.
It’s just great to crack the windows a tad. With those cracked windows comes filtrating the air. When listened to at a reasonable level, music no matter the genre (well, some of them) can be enjoyed. Music, when just heard from a passing car when you are standing on a sidewalk, let’s say, will make the the passerby curious as to what someone is listening to. Call me old and crotchety, but when a car’s frame is shaking over the sound of the tunes, it’s inexcusable.
Play your music loud! Everything sounds best loud. We just want to hear music, not buzzing.
When I first started the novel I have been working and re-working on, the concept was based around being by yourself and listening to music, singing as loud as you want and not caring. When in the car, especially on a road trip, music is a best friend. I’m not going to go against a book on tape. Something has to be going on in the car, aside silence. However, I scrapped the idea for (maybe) another time.
There is no place in the world you’d rather be than in the car, listening to great music, singing as loud as you want with or without friends. These kinds of moments are the very few moments you can be yourself, let yourself go, and drift on with life. Right? Singing in the shower is passe. If you were driving across the country, aside stopping here and there to walk around and explore, don’t limit yourself to just that. Utilize your time efficiently.
Okay, I normally don’t do two posts a day, but I wanted to kill some time before Sarah and I join Melissa and Ryan at Lemon Grass, experiencing not just Syracuse Dining Week, but moments of getting out and educating yourself with conversations and observations of life as it ticks by.