Music & Lyrics ( and much much more)

Alex Fletcher: It doesn't have to be perfect. Just spit it out. They're just lyrics.
Sophie Fisher: "Just lyrics"?
Alex Fletcher: Lyrics are important. They're just not as important as melody.
Sophie Fisher: I really don't think you get it.
Alex Fletcher: Oh. You look angry. Click your pen.
Sophie Fisher: A melody is like seeing someone for the first time. The physical attraction. Sex.
Alex Fletcher: I so get that.
Sophie Fisher: But then, as you get to know the person, that's the lyrics. Their story. Who they are underneath. It's the combination of the two that makes it magical.

So this is a quote from the actual movie music & lyrics but today I would like to discuss some stuff that I feel I always talk about. And it's not just lyrics... I believe it is just words. Written words.

My freshman English teacher, Coach Cochran ( or cap'n- the only alternative to calling him coach) was quite memorable and it wasn't just because we could ONLY go to the bathroom if we asked to go to "the potty." No one ever got away with asking to be excused to go to the powder room, the ladies room, or any other tactful way of saying it. NO. We had to ask to go potty. It was also because he taught us -or at least me- valuable lessons through his incessant ranting. Though he never set out to have a life changing class , or at least I don't think he did, he has affected my life and I think about him often.

The man was an odd man. He used to sit there staring into outer space, chewing gum, with one of those large industrial yellow rubber bands squeezing tight against the flesh of his forehead. He would just sit there, with a rubber band around his forehead as if it were a sweatband, and as if it were normal. He has said a few things that I think about often and I would like to now pass on his wisdom to you, my readers.

1) Don't touch railings while going down stairs. Do you have any idea how many people touch that who have not washed their hands, who have just coughed, or have done who knows what with it. Gross. Just don't do it. And I am proud to report that since my freshman year of high school in 1999 it has been a rare occasion that I touch the railing and I like to think of myself for being healthy for doing so.

2) Pay attention to the lyrics in the songs you are listening to. If you form a band, please do not write stupid lyrics such as " slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannon ball, where were you while we were getting high?" ( Oasis- Champagne Super Nova) I remember him ranting that we will silly for listening to that. We needed to listen to something with meaning, or a coherent message at the least.

This ties into my Freshman year of College English class. Dr. Fox, one of the perviest teachers I have had in my college career, used to tell us that words were sometimes taken advantage of when spoken but they must never be perverted when written. What we write must be true, and to the best of our ability. I do believe this is when I started my love affair with words. I have always had an obsession with it, but my obsession was never fully formed until 2002 there in Alvin, Texas (home of Nolan Ryan). After that day I started having trouble writing essays. I wanted everything to be fully articulate and eloquently describe every fluttering thought, every deep turmoil, every pondering thought I had on the subject. I came to realize that it would never happen, but that I needed to write it down anyway.

And now as I get older I obsess over every passage in a book, every lyric in songs. Why did they write that. How beautifully they portrayed that scene.... I am obsessed. I guess what I am trying to say is this. " How do you describe so adequately those things that cannot be spoken?"

My book of choice for the plane ride back home was The Great Gatsby. An oldie, but a goody. Gatsby has this quiet love affair for Daisy, and has for YEARS. Instead of just coming out and doing something about it he shapes his life around it. FOR FIVE YEARS. When they finally meet again Gatsby shows her the clippings from the news he has kept of her for years. He tells her how he bought the house because it looks across to hers, and she always has a green light lit. Somewhere, you can sense the desperation in his voice. You sense the need to be loved, the need to be validated that he wasn't just crazy, he didn't do all of this for nothing... and yet the author never mentions this. She just writes.

I would love to discuss this one scenario in greater depth but perhaps this will be saved for another day. Too bad things that work out in books don't always work out in real life.

I wish life always seemed as beautiful as it does in books ( and songs).