Sept 22, 2012

My four year old, Riley, is getting ready for his first season of hockey. This weekend this meant Play-it-Again Sports and four or more hours going to free-skate at the ice rink. Sitting in the stands, watching him gain confidence with every trip round the ice, hearing the top 40 tracks pumped into the arena, I feel a tinge of nostalgia. Probably not as much as his dad, Brett, who played hockey his whole life, and is out on the ice trailing a distance behind, giving Riley his space, but watching over him attentively.

Brett has a hockey soundtrack in his mind. Music that was played before games or between periods gains his attention. Like the smell of the used equipment store draws up memories of his own smelly gear, hearing these songs effortlessly evokes memories of his glory days on the ice. This is a man who can't remember what happened five years ago, but can somehow conger up lucid details about sipping powdered chicken broth or hot chocolate at the ice rink.

All of this directs my mind to the middle of the 90s. I was in middle school and the roller rink was what we did. On Friday nights the lights were dimmed and the disco ball spun around. The smoke machine hissed out a cloud of mist every three minutes, and the DJ played the top R & B hits of the day. The whole atmosphere of the place was romantic; especially for girls like me who fell in love every week. Without ever having meant to, I have an emotional reaction to certain songs that were played back then, songs I don't even like, and maybe never did. And SOMETIMES, I don't even know why my nose tingles and my eyes well up.

Memory is really fickle. This is part of why I'm a picture junkie, and a writer to boot. But even more-so, it is why I'm a music lover. It's why Brett is a music lover too. He may only ever love the music that he already knows, but he loves it for the same reason that anyone loves music; because of the way it makes him feel, because of what he remembers feeling back it first took hold of his brain. This is like Pavlov for people. We hear a bell, and we salivate.