Wednesday, August 28, 2013

"Home Sweet Home"

By: Jeffrey Peltier
subject: Home and Origin
assignment: Creative Righting Class spring 2013
Kirkwood Community Collage

Like most people, my origin seems like a dream.  I was so young then; it didn’t really feel like I was from any place. But more like I originated  from family and friends.  They could have all been anywhere, I suppose, and it would still be them that I originated from and not a house or a town that I look back and see when I remember my home and origin.  I feel like home is something I will always keep discovering and rediscovering, like something new and not so much like a place I came from or a place that I remember. 


 Since I can remember back, I always seemed to have some song that was my favorite only changing every time I seemed to  rediscover my safe place.  It's like I can still hear its melody ringing its sweet sounds in my distant memory’s and written into my subconscious mind like the story of my life. The beat thumping away and searing its tune deep into my mind piercing  its way directly into my hart.


 I remember one of my childhood birthday parties when I got a Mickey Mouse Birthday album; recorded on a very thick, hard, plastic record. It was blue with pictures of the Micky mouse club on the  label.  I think I listened to it until it simply wore out, and it wouldn’t play anymore.  Or maybe it got broken.  I don’t remember what happened to it, but the songs are still colored deep into my a memory etched with feelings of family and the warm friendly glow of home and it's surroundings.


 All through my life, music has been like a good friend I could turn to, with the warm feelings of  home and always comforting me through many trials and tribulations.  The ever changing music in my life has always seemed almost to not only mark the time of my life but actually tell my story note by note and band by band.  In my adolescent years I could only afford forty fives, so it was literally just one song at a time like “Your Making Me Dizzy” by Tommy Roe and “Iron Man” by Black Sabbath. I would have to take them to my best friend’s house to listen to them, as our record player had no spindle to play forty fives. This was always like a party, as we would all dance and sing to the music till we were exhausted. Then in my teens, I would buy an LP every week end as I had my own record player and more money then. But I would still go to a friend’s house to listen  to them as it just sounded better with friends and they would in turn share their new music with me.


Music has come to remind me of my home and always takes me home, somehow.  Oh wait, not my home like a physical place, but a feeling that is there that feels like home, perhaps a feeling everyone has.  Music still echoes from wall to wall in my memories and in my car and home.  It's like a “Magic Bus”, which was also a favorite song of mine, by; “The Who”. It's  just like that, a magic bus that always takes me there, to that one place that seems to be home. 


            Sometimes when the day is frustrating, I just turn my music loud!   Enshrining me with its sounds soothing me and comforting me making all my troubles seem to just melt away, like ice and snow in the spring time. It always seems to help me feel like I am home; home sweet home.


 I remember many vacations that I just couldn’t wait to get home and listen to some new band I had discovered shopping at some  different place I had never been before.  When I got to my record player I would listen intensely just like I was listening to a new friend that I was trying hard not to miss a single word and soaking up its tune like a drink of cool water. 


 I remember a long vacation away from my records as a kid when I found a Robyn Hitchcock and the Egyptians album in a shopping mall.  Fortunately my mother had insisted that we check out, or I never would have come across it.  I was lucky enough to see him live as a back up band for “Billy Joel”. I really didn’t care about Billy Joel, I was there to see and hear Robin Hitchcock. The next weekend! He debuted on Saturday Night Live.  It was very magical, it was like I was up on stage with Robyn singing every word as if it were my own!


I'm the man with the lightbulb head
I turn myself on in the dark
I'm the man with the lightbulb head
I turn myself on for a lark      


            I'm not sure what his lyrics mean but I think that’s simply the charm that I enjoyed so much about his songs.


             I never really felt so far from home, as I did the time I when I stayed in Texas with a friend.  Although it was a good time, I was far away from my music and I could have just died of starvation for the sounds of home, as she had no record player or records to listen to. If it had not been for my tape player in the car I would have lost my mind. It was just an eight track, but the very best for those times and it would make me feel like the miles between me and my music collection, were dissolved away and I was right back in my room at home.  It was just like a magic bus for me!  I could just plug in one of my favorite tapes and close my eyes and it was like I was right back at home, safe and sound in my own surroundings.   


            They say music soothes the savage beast.  When I take a minute to recall what it is that home means to me, it was always where my music was playing.  Home would be the song on the radio that reminds me that home is not just a place but a place in your heart.  A warm place where my favorite song is playing. 



            Where I came from and what is my origin?  I guess I would have to say, I am from the past and I am here now and there tomorrow, listening to my songs.  It always seems that no matter what my mood is from day to day, I can always find a song to make it all seem OK, and everything seems to fall right into place just like it's meant to be.  You see, if there is no music that I like,  then I just have to move on till the sound leads me home again.  Kind of like flipping the record over in my younger days and now I can just push the skip button.


            When ever I travel, I always miss my music collection that I have at home.  Sometimes it’s just the quality of the sounds and the warm feelings they give me when I'm in my own surroundings. I find myself asking, my self “What was that song that I liked?”.  I can hear it, and I remember the beat; in fact, I can hum a few lines and when ever I hear the sound; its like it always sends me back into the time and place that always feels like home.


            The popularity of a song has no influence over this feeling of home.  The feeling of home only seems to arrive with the significance of the sound at the given time.  Sometimes  the music is out of place and then it seems that everything is out of place.  Well, my record player and music collection is only just a symbol of home. In as much as that it has become the strongest avenue for me that always leads me home. It has come to remind me very much of all the times I have pulled a record from the shelf and thought to my self, this is no accident this is meant to be and to enjoy and it fits this very moment.  It welcomes me home like a dusty welcome mat.  This is what I like! It has become my home.


            For me home is always something new and yet something familiar.  Where I came from, the surroundings have changed and the place is not my home any more even though sometimes I find myself wanting to go back to that place, back to the moment I got the Mickey Mouse album for my birthday.  Was that really me and was that a real place?  I hold the memory’s close to me, but I can never return.  Still every inch of the way, the sound has been  creating my home and helping me rediscover my true origin.  In the end, I think we all find our true home and discover our true origin, but it’s not always what we think it will be. So just wait till tomorrow and it will all change again.  I just remember there will always be a song playing for me in the place I call home. 


            As I look to the future, I feel the road ahead will most certainly invite new places and friends.  But the sounds I have yet to adore will surely fascinate me as I wonder what they will sound like.  They will no doubt probably resemble something old and yet be new and some how they will catch my inspiration like a butterfly in a net and I will be home again and in a better place than yesterday and it will be an even better tomorrow.  It’s kind of like the pied piper, as I follow the sounds like a moth to the flame, because some how that is home, into the flame! On my way home where my favorite songs are playing.