Music is a memory-bank trigger.
I recently put a pre-set button on my radio to a rock and roll station out of Memphis, just in case I am close to suicide someday and need an emergency burst of energy…I don’t think Country Music will be able to pull me out of my downward spiral, in fact, I think it would be more like a shove in the wrong direction.
I don’t dislike Country Music…it’s just that I like other music more…however, Rock and Roll never paid so well…my DJ job when I was 19 paid all of $3.25 an hour or so.
Things weren’t going bad when I went home for lunch today, but I clicked over there anyway…I don’t remember what song it was, but a wash of memories from high school and college came over me…it was like it was yesterday, more than 20 years ago, back when I was driving around in my Renault Le Car, hoping the alternator wouldn’t quit on me.
As it is, listening to Country all the time (I do it to make sure the station is still on the air…my plan to get a needle meter so I could know without having to listen didn’t work out…) creates no memories when I listen to it, except for that song about Charlotte Johnson and that front porch swing.
It’s like I got a lobotomy or something.
