THAT train - Kodachrome - Goodbye (to a house)
Outside on this dreary night the sounds of drunken college students, humming streetlamps, and the patter of rain is once again submitting to the deep faint rumble and crack. How many times have I heard the same sound, my feet up on the railing, cup of coffee in hand as I listened to the whistle disappear in the darkness? Yet tonight it has a somewhat different feel, for I realize that this is one of the last times I'll hear that train powering up from my loft, over and through the black, drenched grade, through the Salinas valley and on to God knows where. THAT train. That train, as if it was the same one each and every time. I suppose it might as well have been. In a way it became the sound of home (well that and Jack's standard kitchen counter perched "meow" as I walked through the door). How excited I was when I found the place I'm in right now. How disappointed I am to be leaving it now. I suppose that even now it's not so bad though. Tim Martin used to say a quote that went something like “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” What a good perspective and as good of a lead in as any to my headline..
Back in the mid 30's the good scientists at Kodak developed Kodachrome. Over the years the film has become synonymous with longevity and color accuracy. Yet when I think of Kodachrome, for some reason, I think of old 8mm movies of family vacations. Now old super 8 home movies are known for anything but color accuracy, but it is wonderful to think that they get the point across in, perhaps, a better way then anything digitized now days.
Two days ago I was sitting in the backyard of the house I most equate with my childhood pondering the brilliance of Poe's "House of Usher" when I suddenly was hit out of the blue with a spell of nostalgia. It came on rather suddenly, and in my defense there was no time to duck out of the way. Perhaps I should avoid the firing line for as it were I was sitting at the now rusted out outdoor metal patio set that looked out at the most defining 20 yards of my pre-teens.
I’m sure I’m not the only one, but normally when I think back on old times I'm able to muster up a still frame, a feeling, and, if I'm lucky, a short clip. This time, however, things seemed to come like an old kodachrome super 8 movie complete with theme song and the ever-present projector flicker. No, I wasn't on anything. It just happened that way. But... and here's the theme song... "Lend me your ear and I'll sing you a song, and I'll try not to sing out of key.... ". Ok so I had a wonder years moment, can you blame me? I was sitting at the table I used to bring the butterfly's that I'd catch in the front yard, the table where my grandpa gave me my first beer (Odules mind you..), the same spot I have photo's with my mother in at my first birthday, right next to the patch of yard where my grandpa would throw the ball to my first dog, which is next to the pool where my grandma taught me to swim, being surrounded by the tropical trees that produced the best cousin (and little brother) stabbing sword leafs in the world, which follow the pool around to the forest where the monsters lived and my dad taught me to fire a BB gun. I don’t mean to throw down any zang attitude, but I believe my wonder years moment is justified. Is it not?
Out in front of the old pool with the acclaimed cousin stabbers in the background...
In the same way I feel that much of the last 5 years has been carelessly edited into one big jumble. Of course, by this point we've moved onto digital and the theme music has changed dramatically. There's, of course, the Metallica (mmm.. shall we say infested?) first year of trucks, dunes, and endangered species hating, which ushered in a stevie ray vaughn/bob dylan inspired second year of fatties pizza, bunk beds, and bill cosby records. Of course, few things stand out better then the blissful tranquility of heavy metal, Johnny cash, pipes, and dirt bikes that characterized year number 3. Year 4 came about with the wonderfulness of all night design projects, M. Ward, good movies, big rooms, Radiohead, and walking around downtown taking night shots (the photographic kind). Fifth year, being the most recent and henceforth taking up the predominant portion of this flick found me taking night shots of a different kind, in a relationship, doing lots of school stuff, planning trips abroad, listening to ray lamontagne and spending many nights here in this same loft listening to THAT train.
Summing it up, condensing such defining times of my life it seems a rather empty assertion. It may be true that over time our memories tend to jumble up into one short clip, but when you break it down they are just that, defining. I suppose that in the end memories and experiences are what they are. Some have a sting that we wish we could forget, but in the end they serve to make who we are in life. It’s true that in time the rumble of the train will be a distant memory, but in the end, it’s come to symbolize one of the greatest rollercoaster periods I can remember.
I’ll be the last to be so masochistic as to say that hard times hold a special place in my heart, but it is also true that I have learned the most through them. Many of my friends have been there through so many of them, always with a word of encouragement or maybe more so a heart of understanding. Thank you very much. So many of you have changed dramatically over the years. It’s nice to look back on it now. All of you that have come and gone over this period have my sincerest respect and admiration and I hope that year 10 finds us in touch. While I doubt that I’ll ever have a wonder years moment thinking back on these times, I wouldn’t rule out “the boys are back in town”
So… goodbye house. Goodbye Jack’s window. Goodbye cramped loft. Thanks for the good times and the bad. It's been a great ride.
-Keith
Back in the mid 30's the good scientists at Kodak developed Kodachrome. Over the years the film has become synonymous with longevity and color accuracy. Yet when I think of Kodachrome, for some reason, I think of old 8mm movies of family vacations. Now old super 8 home movies are known for anything but color accuracy, but it is wonderful to think that they get the point across in, perhaps, a better way then anything digitized now days.
Two days ago I was sitting in the backyard of the house I most equate with my childhood pondering the brilliance of Poe's "House of Usher" when I suddenly was hit out of the blue with a spell of nostalgia. It came on rather suddenly, and in my defense there was no time to duck out of the way. Perhaps I should avoid the firing line for as it were I was sitting at the now rusted out outdoor metal patio set that looked out at the most defining 20 yards of my pre-teens.
I’m sure I’m not the only one, but normally when I think back on old times I'm able to muster up a still frame, a feeling, and, if I'm lucky, a short clip. This time, however, things seemed to come like an old kodachrome super 8 movie complete with theme song and the ever-present projector flicker. No, I wasn't on anything. It just happened that way. But... and here's the theme song... "Lend me your ear and I'll sing you a song, and I'll try not to sing out of key.... ". Ok so I had a wonder years moment, can you blame me? I was sitting at the table I used to bring the butterfly's that I'd catch in the front yard, the table where my grandpa gave me my first beer (Odules mind you..), the same spot I have photo's with my mother in at my first birthday, right next to the patch of yard where my grandpa would throw the ball to my first dog, which is next to the pool where my grandma taught me to swim, being surrounded by the tropical trees that produced the best cousin (and little brother) stabbing sword leafs in the world, which follow the pool around to the forest where the monsters lived and my dad taught me to fire a BB gun. I don’t mean to throw down any zang attitude, but I believe my wonder years moment is justified. Is it not?
Out in front of the old pool with the acclaimed cousin stabbers in the background...
In the same way I feel that much of the last 5 years has been carelessly edited into one big jumble. Of course, by this point we've moved onto digital and the theme music has changed dramatically. There's, of course, the Metallica (mmm.. shall we say infested?) first year of trucks, dunes, and endangered species hating, which ushered in a stevie ray vaughn/bob dylan inspired second year of fatties pizza, bunk beds, and bill cosby records. Of course, few things stand out better then the blissful tranquility of heavy metal, Johnny cash, pipes, and dirt bikes that characterized year number 3. Year 4 came about with the wonderfulness of all night design projects, M. Ward, good movies, big rooms, Radiohead, and walking around downtown taking night shots (the photographic kind). Fifth year, being the most recent and henceforth taking up the predominant portion of this flick found me taking night shots of a different kind, in a relationship, doing lots of school stuff, planning trips abroad, listening to ray lamontagne and spending many nights here in this same loft listening to THAT train.
Summing it up, condensing such defining times of my life it seems a rather empty assertion. It may be true that over time our memories tend to jumble up into one short clip, but when you break it down they are just that, defining. I suppose that in the end memories and experiences are what they are. Some have a sting that we wish we could forget, but in the end they serve to make who we are in life. It’s true that in time the rumble of the train will be a distant memory, but in the end, it’s come to symbolize one of the greatest rollercoaster periods I can remember.
I’ll be the last to be so masochistic as to say that hard times hold a special place in my heart, but it is also true that I have learned the most through them. Many of my friends have been there through so many of them, always with a word of encouragement or maybe more so a heart of understanding. Thank you very much. So many of you have changed dramatically over the years. It’s nice to look back on it now. All of you that have come and gone over this period have my sincerest respect and admiration and I hope that year 10 finds us in touch. While I doubt that I’ll ever have a wonder years moment thinking back on these times, I wouldn’t rule out “the boys are back in town”
So… goodbye house. Goodbye Jack’s window. Goodbye cramped loft. Thanks for the good times and the bad. It's been a great ride.
-Keith
posted by Keith Erickson at 8:41 PM
2 Comments:
Que te vaya bien mi buen amigo. Que te vaya muy bien....te voy a ver en tus adventuras and look forward to hearing whatever tunes are providing the soundtrack.
well said, bravo keith.
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