Today's rambling: Those Were The Days Of Our Lives
Written on Saturday, Dec. 13, 2003 at 9:31 p.m.
while feeling a bit

It's funny how, no matter how many different bands you come to love, there always seems to be one that you come back to. For Geoff, that band would be Led Zeppelin. For me, it'll always be Queen.

I didn't really begin loving their music until a bit after 1991 (ironically enough), and even then it took me awhile to shift from the happy, mellow Oldies songs to something with a lot of "drums and screaming," as I first described their music. But Queen's music was what got me through some of the most difficult times in my life, and I know that's one of the cheesiest lines ever, but it's so true. When I was in 8th grade, my parents were on the brink of a divorce and my mother was having an affair with some guy. Ironically, he's the one I have to credit for supplying most of my Queen collection. But anyway, those were some really rough times for me, and I always fell back on their music to help me escape from things.

The 'obsessed' stage lasted for about 3 years, and then it waned out while I went through my embarrassing "I love teenybopper pop music" stage. Still, even when my bedroom walls were covered with Backstreet Boys and Spice Girl pictures, I refused to take down my Freddie Mercury poster. As silly as it sounds, I always felt a certain connection with him, as though he was looking down on me and watching out for me. Yeah, probably just delusions brought on by all my insecurity. But nonetheless, there are times when I still think he's there. It's pretty far-fetched, but why couldn't it be true, right?

Obviously, I've recently started getting into various other bands, The Moody Blues being first (and now it's gone on to Jethro Tull, ELP, Led Zeppelin, etc.). There was quite a long stretch where I didn't listen to Queen music at all.

Yet within the past couple of months, I've found myself coming back to their music. Not just their music, but their videos, and the documentaries that I'd bought over the years. Maybe it's a form of regression (if you want to get Freudian), a way of comforting myself through this past semester, which was pretty rough. If that's what it is, I'm not going to complain. I was watching the "Champions of the World" documentary today, and it was almost like coming home, in a really odd sort of way. I very nearly cried at the end, just like I always did when they played "Forever" (a piano version of "Who Wants To Live Forever") and showed all the memorials to Freddie.

I still think about what a shame it is that he died. He was so talented, and his voice was so amazingly beautiful...there are some songs that still bring tears to my eyes every time I hear them. His vocal range was undescribable, and even Robert Plant acknowledged the fact that at Freddie's tribute concert, people had to change the keys of the songs because they just couldn't match the notes he hit. I suppose that flames that bright can't stay in this world for long, but it's still horrible that he had to go in that fashion.

Anyway, I'm not sure what brought all this reminiscent sappiness on, it's just that every so often I get to thinking...and this happens to be one of those times. :P I'll always have a soft spot for "my" boys, and I can see myself even at 80 singing along to their songs.'

Which might be a little frightening for any future grandchildren, to hear some old woman rocking out to "Tie Your Mother Down". ;)