![]() If Ani’s music has partially made my life, then what about the people who brought me an appreciation for those songs? The people that are unavoidably invoked every time one of them is played. How sitting in Lindsay’s room (really Laurel’s) and singing “Falling is Like This” I realized that I had met someone of a completely like mind.Īll of those people, just by invoking Ani DiFranco albums. How freshman year I sat on Alison’s floor and traded Ani concert stories as we carefully cut out the tray-art of my demo cd. How Ayelet put an Ani song on a mix tape before I even know who Ani was. ![]() But, as those songs passed by I thought of some of those other people. I measure my life in personal milestones and, in Ani’s case, in albums, but rarely by other people. It’s a strange concept to me who, by any account, is at least halfway centered on myself. Standing there on the trolley a line caught my ears, a line I’ve heard so many times before: I owe my life to the people that I love. DiFranco’s release dates as if their were birthday’s of favorite cousins, or political revolutions.Īs Ani releases an album nearly every year, it’s easy for me to associate every one with a certain bit of my life, as many people as there are songs strewn across her dozens of discs. In fact, I used to pride myself on being able to recite Ms. It’s the first one that I haven’t bought on (or before) its day of release. I obliged by only descending as far as Ani DiFranco.Īs the trolley whisked through its underground tunnel, I marveled that an Ani Difranco album came out on Tuesday. ![]() My iPod, almost completely out of battery power, didn’t seem as if it would want to scroll very far to find an album for my morning commute on Wednesday. I am in love with walking, and with singing, and with loving, and with you, and I would not have it any other way.įiled Under: stories, Year 05 Tagged With: mom A Picture Share! I refuse to, unless that same fear can illustrate to me what it is I love so much about the moments after and before it. I refuse to react to all things as catastrophic, or to live in the specter of fear – fear of the phone, or of anything else. ![]() Is her day so typically filled with a string of human tragedy that she has lost the ability to discern the difference? Does she find everything to be tragedic? Or, worse still, is everything so commonplace that her emergent response is a tacit reaction? I wonder if working in the hospital for so long has rendered her immune to the dramatic connotations of such terse messages. #Watchme 247 archives softwareAs the anxious knot in my stomach quietly dissolved into an afternoon case of agita (odgida), I calmly explained that though the hopelessly proprietary software might not work on her computer, the pictures would probably be BMPs or JPGs scanned directly from the negatives, and that she would definitely be able to open those #Watchme 247 archives windowsI soon learned that, in reality, she was in Sears portrait studio, arguing with the receptionist because the software on their picture discs isn’t compatible with Windows XP (presumably holding up a line of screaming children all the while), and she called me to consult. She had to avert a national nuclear disaster in less than 24 hours of consecutive screen time, less commercial breaks. A school bus had overturned on the 95 South, and she was triaging the children until the paramedics arrived. She was trapped at gunpoint in a daycare center, unable to stay on the line for long. She had found a baby abandoned in a dumpster, and needed me to alert the media while she whisked it to CHOP to have it nursed back to health. Where had she found screaming children, and what was I supposed to do about it? Naturally I imagined the worst. Not only was the lack of verbosity completely unbecoming of her, there were children screaming in the background all the while. The feeling owed to an emotionally draining weekend, and from this side of Sunday it seemed to me as if every phone message was a loaded gun waiting to fire a little bit of conflict or a touch of bad tidings – waiting to sidetrack me with more bad news or bad karma.Īs a result, when my mother left me a message on both my cell and desk phones with terse instructions to page her without delay I was concerned. ![]() I’m not so afraid of it now, but for a few minutes this morning I felt as though I was right back in that place. For a few years of my life I despised the phone, somehow convinced that picking it up could only result in unfortunate news (or telemarketing). ![]()
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