Last night I broke my self-imposed hermitage to go to a show at The Middle East Upstairs. It was the first time I had been to this part of The M.E., and for the life of me I can't figure out why. It's like finding a door in your house that leads to a well-lit attic that you never knew was there and yet had been THE WHOLE TIME.
It's been a refreshing change to have American Boy bring music back into my life. When I was unemployed in Switzerland I spent a fair amount of time listening to music, perusing music news sites, and generally keeping up with new sounds and names (usually Swedish, sure, but they ARE the best). After the move back to Boston this waned considerably, mostly just due to the pernicious malignancy of depression, which caused me to lose interest in most things, music included. And during last year, my year of self-reflection and mental renewal, which is really just Ashbloemspeak for LIVING WITHOUT A COMPUTER AT HOME, I didn't listen to anything that wasn't given to me and even then burned CDs rarely played on my CD player, so they were often left to gather dust.
In walks American Boy, he of prodigious music knowledge and collection, not to mention a computer and stereo upon which forgotten CDs can actually play! Also a live show attendance compulsion, which means that I am far more likely to go to them as well. There is some compromise here though, as I am, after all, a 8:30 to 5:00 worker, and going out on weeknights makes me miserable at work the next day - I go when I think I don't have much the next day, but if I don't go, AB generally trundles off happily on his own.
(Aside: I love that he goes happily on his own. I am not made to feel bad for not accompanying, and he doesn't stay home just because I don't want to go. JESUS CHRIST ON A BICYCLE, HOW SEXY IS SOMEONE WHO DOESN'T REQUIRE ANYTHING OF YOU?)
Going out more and to different places has also added another dimension to Boston, one that, during this time of my general dissatisfaction with the city as a realistic place for me to live (which is NOT to say I still wouldn't rather be here than most other places in the US), is warmly welcomed. It finally feels like I'm connecting to some creative spark in the place, which has been sorely lacking from my relationship with it.
On the downside, my otherwise general disdain for MySpace has turned into a begrudging appreciation for the ease in which one can discover new music (and, apparently, the first boy I ever kissed - in the seventh grade theatre costume room, which might explain in a weird Freudian way my later theatrical inclinations) and I find myself on there more and more. Damn. Foiled again by the internet.
My desire for music is back, and though I will never be as rabidly engaged in it as AB, I feel better and more connected to life itself because of its renewal; much like I do when eating buffalo mozzarella with fresh tomatoes and basil, or drinking a quality wine, or hugging a friend, or having sex with American Boy. All of these things are LIFE AFFIRMING. They add value to what little time we have; in fact, they help us realise how much time we otherwise waste. I guess a worktime hangover every now and again is worth that.
