Welcome to my distraction. My lifeblood. My weapon of choice against a one way ticket to a micro-sleep. Small, lightweight, white and sliver. It sits there quietly, quite unassuming if you were unaware of its capabilities. Overtaking the era of cassettes and CD’s with a single bound, downloading music faster than a speeding bullet, I bring you the humble iPod. My iPod to be exact.
In my last blog I touched on how I didn’t know what the latest and greatest iPods are, to be honest, I can’t believe they can get better. My iPod is three years old, smaller than a business card, lighter than a wallet and holds 1000 songs; that’s over 50 CD’s worth!
Now I know this sounds like I have just been sponsored by Apple and I need to say iPod 50 times in this journal entry to get my sponsorship money. But that’s not true. Actually we are NOT sponsored by Apple. People get carried away with the iPod. It is the music inside it that is special. The music that you choose to put inside it. Now that’s the beauty.
Welcome to my playlist. Several artists get a mention here. My artists of choice for this year in no particular order; The Whitest Boy Alive, The Cat Empire, Eskimo Joe, Kings of Leon, Michael Bublé, Michael Franti, The Panics, The Beatles, Billy Joel, Regina Spektor, John Butler, Amy Winehouse, Dire Straits, Phoenix, Jason Mraz, Powderfinger and The Shins. Now that’s the end of the listing of arbitrary bands/artists, some of which you may not have heard of. What I think is important is the vibe I get off these artists: The cool sway of Bublé, the chilled out beats of The Whitest Boy Alive, the epic and grand sound of Kings of Leon and the lyrical power of Michael Franti.
These are my friends as I sit lonely in the car. Late at night after a long day when we are still on the road it is near impossible to stay awake. So tired, muscles stiff, temperature in the car is warm and toasty, my eyelids slowly drooping, three shiny white figures standing out on the horizon cycling in front of me. The three white, reflective, hazy figures dancing and changing formation as my eyes become blurry, white lines on the road slowly zipping past. It is hypnotizing. But sleep doesn’t win, music gets me through.
All of a sudden I choose a new artist. I listen to the words, I hear the harmonies and I pay attention to how the base guitar is rolling through the scale, the guitar, the drums; “oh that snare sounds good”, I think to myself. I look up again, the three figures on the horizon still dancing along to the music in the headlights as I drive behind them. “Stop. Don’t look at them, just watch the road, watch the horizon, watch the stars and listen to the music.” That was my secret to staying awake; the stars and my music. I listen to The Shins or Dire Straits or The Whitest Boy Alive and watch the stars and let my mind wander, free as a bird. Leave my thoughts on a breeze and let the wind take them around the world, to places I never knew existed. I lose myself in that moment and before I know, we roll in to our chosen rest area and I can finally give in to the temptation of sleep.
Quote of the day
“Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.”
- Maya Angelou (born in 1928, Poet and important figure in the American Civil Rights Movement)