I heard this song, 9 at night, as I solitarily made MCAT psych/soc flashcards. Out of the blue, I said, “I love this song”, out loud, as if I was holding conversation with someone else in the room.
I am not entirely sure why I like this song so much.
It feels nice? Is that a valid reason?
It also reminds me of high school.
I get flutters in my chest remembering how wonderful it was to be young, with the world just opening before me. The world is still lovely and filled with much opportunity, but in high school, the world was JUST opening up. For goodness sake, I had to walk to each class, AND I could finally pick classes that I wanted to take. Freedom in any semblance was captivating.
I also remember humming Dani California and listening as the rude kid next to me asked if I liked the Chili Peppers. I can still hear my enthusiastic response and, I can still hear his as the boy pointed out that if I didn’t know any other songs but the one popular song, I couldn’t possibly be a real fan. That was kind of humiliating.
What that rude kid didn’t realize was that I was thrilled I had found the song on my dad’s iPod, and that I had actually liked the song. It was so cool that my dad and I shared a mutual fondness for the song.
As I think about it, that jerk was kind of right though? Wasn’t he? Was I real a fan of the band, or was I a fan of what they represented? However, while rude kid was right, so was I. This isn’t some one trick pony of a life we lead. We can like something because it’s part of a larger, grander work, but we can also like objects and moments solely for their nostalgic glory, and for how they make us feel.
Kind of like cheese whiz and Ritz crackers.