A few nights ago on the radio a man called in and told this sad story of how he's going through a divorce and he knows it's over but is really hurting. I thought he was going to have a specific song request, but actually he just wanted Delilah to play something to help him out. She picked "You're Beautiful" by James Blunt (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oofSnsGkops&ob=av2e.) While somewhat relevant and it has almost an uplifting feel, this song is overly cliche and doesn't remotely capture what the listener was going through. "You're Beautiful" is about seeing a stranger on a train and falling in love with them. It's at once happy, because he's in love, and sad, because he'll never see her again. This man was divorcing his wife with whom he had children. That's quite different from someone he's never spoken to.
As I sat there I came up with two songs already to play for this man that I felt captured his pain, were more consistent with how I assume he feels, and sent an encouraging, strong message:
1. Walk Away by Ben Harper (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6FSkL9hMhpE): "And it's
so hard to do, And so easy to say, But sometimes, Sometimes you just have to
walk away. With so many people To love in my life, Why do I worry About one?"
2. Details in the Fabric by Jason Mraz
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdIw6tEjyEg): "If it's a broken heart, then face
it, And hold your own, Know your name, And go your own way. And everything will
be fine. Hang on, Help is on the way, And stay strong, I'm doing everything."
It then occurred to me that I should have that job. Among my desires to give advice and write a love column is another passion: music. It's what I've always turned to when I've needed consolation. Not everyone can understand this as people obviously don't all deal with pain this way. My love for sad music and vast collection of it is because I would often just type how I felt into google and write "lyrics" afterwards to see what came up when I was feeling emotional. Sometimes I'd just pick an artist I liked and read all their lyrics until I found some that matched how I felt.
The DJ on the radio, Delilah, hasn't done this. She is under the misconception, as many people are, that when a person is sad they need a happy song to cheer them up. This is true for smaller sads and situations where a person just needs to forget how they feel fast, but when a person is truly sad they don't want to hear anything happy. It won't help. In fact it might make them feel worse, like it's being rubbed in their face or reminding them of what they don't have/aren't feeling. When a person is truly sad they need to fully feel it and revel in it; they need to wallow. There's a quote from Tuesdays with Morrie (a quotable though not particularly great book in my opinion) that says that in order to move past an emotion we have to fully feel it first. I absolutely agree with this. During the sad times a person needs not only to fully feel the sad, but also to know that someone else has felt it too. Someone else understands, has been there, and has overcome it. This way the sad one doesn't feel alone and therefore doesn't feel hopeless. This is an important distinction between sad and hopeless. Hopeless is a dangerous, depressing emotion that should be avoided at all costs. Sad is not. You can feel sad without feeling hopeless, and in fact I think it is the best way to become happy again. You've gotta feel the emotions but know that you won't feel them forever. It gets better. That's what keeps us going during the tough times.
Bottom line: I want my job to be recommending songs to sad people.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Random Musical Facts
Lately I've realized that mostly because of my father's vast musical knowledge I've accumulated a vast span of random musical facts. Part of the reason I write is because I've always been slightly afraid of forgetting a lot of things when I get old (and I'm very nostalgic). Also musical knowledge is a somewhat useless form of knowledge (I mean let's be serious, it sure didn't help on the SAT, and at a school like BC where music isn't really a serious interest for most people, it doesn't come up too often in conversation). Anyway, so that I don't forget everything I've learned, and so that I have some way to share the fun facts I've been accumulating, I've decided to every so often document a random fact on this blog. Today's was a story my father told me just the other day that he got a kick out of. I'll admit this one is more story than fact, but that's alright:
The other day my father walked into my room and asked if I'd ever heard of Waddy Wachtel. Needless to say I hadn't. But I had heard of someone he's closely associated with: Warren Zevon. Waddy Wachtel has played with James Taylor and Keith Richards, and I guess in his day he was quite in demand as a musician. Anyway he used to play with Warren Zevon, and I guess my father saw them live at one point. I guess Zevon has a drinking problem, so Waddy did most of the talking during the concert. As the show went on, Zevon got more and more intoxicated, and so, obviously, the last thing they played was "Werewolves of London" (because who doesn't want to howl when they're falling down drunk?). Anyway before the last song, Zevon, who hadn't said much the whole time, decided to do the courteous thing and introduce Waddy Wachtel, but instead of the usual introduction, he simply said, "Waddy Wachtel: he isn't gay ladies, but he is accounted for." For whatever reason my dad always remembered that, and to me that (and the fact that it is so out of the box) makes it worth passing on.
The other day my father walked into my room and asked if I'd ever heard of Waddy Wachtel. Needless to say I hadn't. But I had heard of someone he's closely associated with: Warren Zevon. Waddy Wachtel has played with James Taylor and Keith Richards, and I guess in his day he was quite in demand as a musician. Anyway he used to play with Warren Zevon, and I guess my father saw them live at one point. I guess Zevon has a drinking problem, so Waddy did most of the talking during the concert. As the show went on, Zevon got more and more intoxicated, and so, obviously, the last thing they played was "Werewolves of London" (because who doesn't want to howl when they're falling down drunk?). Anyway before the last song, Zevon, who hadn't said much the whole time, decided to do the courteous thing and introduce Waddy Wachtel, but instead of the usual introduction, he simply said, "Waddy Wachtel: he isn't gay ladies, but he is accounted for." For whatever reason my dad always remembered that, and to me that (and the fact that it is so out of the box) makes it worth passing on.
Labels:
dad,
jokes,
memories,
music,
waddy wachtel,
warren zevon
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