Thursday, April 28, 2005

Quote from Dave's blog.

"Music is enjoyed not so much for the lyrics, or musical style, but becuase of the memories...
Remember when we made out at a stop sign becuase we were "Hanging by a Moment"
Remember when we were so bored at work we made up a dance to "What Are you Waiting For"
Remember when "Kiss" was performed and how the crowd enjoyed
Remember when we sang along to "Deep Enough To Dream" in the car
Remember when we sang along to "That's What Friends are For" .. everytime it played
Remember when you played "Again I go Unnoticed" and how much fun it was to sing
Remember when we would sing ... if that's what you could call it... along to ... that song that I can't remember...but I remember those being good times...
Memories, thanks...it's nice; It's too bad each of these memories has something sad associated with it... missing mom; a home that housed my body, but never my heart and soul; friendships that seem to be breaking; friendships that never started; the pain of shattered romances...longing for something better, yet having not achieved!
-the end of what seems just a small step above vanity"

-David Jensen


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This post is my favorite. I remember such times with you (apart from the makeout session at the stop sign), though I'm not sure any of this was directed to me necessarily. But I think our friendship has a soundtrack, and I think there are also good memories associated with it. Remember when we sang "Land Down Under"? Or how about that one song about "one, two, princes kneel before you..."

I can't for the life of me remember its name.

"Remember when we would sing ... if that's what you could call it... along to ... that song that I can't remember..."

I think that's my favorite part - because I do remember many times like that, whether it was just us or there was someone else there, too; we would sing so loudly and uninhibitedly to the beach those nights, and then we sat and listened to Nickel Creek quietly on the way home with the windows down.

You fell asleep, usually.

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