Have you ever just been off for a while? Now, I don't mean "off" in the "like a prom dress" sense. I mean "off" in the sense of just not being on. That's how I've been over the last few days or so. I've been "off". I have a theory as to how it happened, but I honestly don't know how correct it may be.
I spent Spring Break on a Volunteer Vacation in Kentucky. Getting to know the people of the eastern part of the state was fascinating. They were unimaginably nice and hospitable to the max. As a result, I really don't think it was the people of Kentucky that made me "off". The weather was great for most of the week and I'm not Andrew Freedman, so it probably wouldn't have had an effect on me either way. What else could it have been?
Enough beating around the bush; it was the music. I contend that I somehow got "off" while in Kentucky both because of the music I was forced to listen to and the music I had no access to. Rose and Aly brought a bunch of tapes. Tapes are always a bad thing on car trips. Unless they're mixes, it means that you need to listen to one artist for an extended period of time. With someone as musically (and not so musically) schizophrenic as myself, this was very difficult. Well, I suppose it wasn't too difficult with Debbie Gibson's Electric Youth, but it was still difficult.
The act of listening itself was also challenging. Since my friend Alyson and I were leading the trip, only the two of us could drive. Getting down to Kentucky takes approximately 1.7 billion years. Normally when I drive, I'm all about blasting the radio and getting my groove on. But when you're negotiating West Virginia's unnecessarily meandering highways or the crazy wind of southern Pennsylvania that makes it difficult to keep the van on the road, and you have twelve lives in your hands, you don't end up paying much attention to the music. That is, of course, if one could hear the music over Joe and Antonina's humorous bickering.
When I take road trips, I usually heavily ride the radio's SEEK button. I hang on to Boston or NYC (depending on where I'm leaving from) stations for as long as possibly, but then I trust SEEK to find me good music. Kentucky? Not so hot when it comes to radio stations. By mid-week we had three Kentucky stations programmed: two country and one completely bizarre amalgam of 80s, pop, alternative, and Destiny's Child. By the end of the week, we had found one other relatively current, non-country station. Still, certain songs were on heavy rotation (like Moby's "South Side") while so many other artists (like *N SYNC) were nowhere to be found.
We made do as best as we could. Jeff and Matt, both possibly as musically schizophrenic as I, brought two really great mixes. At the different construction sites, since there were no radios, we created our own bands and sung our own songs. May I highly recommend Vicky & the Tray's cover of "Transgender Sex Offender" (with Sara as Vicky, of course)? There's just something about composing your own music (and your band's history) while nailing down shingles on a roof in Kentucky that makes life grand. Then, on our five-mile, mostly uphill hike that everyone but Vicky volunteered me for, Rose and I led the pack with rousing renditions of everything from Rent to "Dona Nobis Pacem" (you all know that you warmed up to that song in high school choir). Daniel Boone National Forest will never be the same.
Some random Waffle House in Maryland will also never be the same. We stopped for a late dinner and, before anyone knew what was happening, Sarah, Lauren, and a few more of us were up and dancing... in the middle of an empty Waffle House. I actually thought the staff would get mad, but Joe Neat, our waiter, brought us over cool, little Waffle House paper hats, so we knew that we were wanted. We had practiced for this moment earlier in the week when we had an extremely random creative movement dance party in the basement of the church where we were staying.
Nonetheless, I somehow ended up "off." I need constant and diverse musical stimulation. In Kentucky, I didn't get so much of that. For example, on this trip, rap and hip-hop were practically non-existent. I remember hearing some blasting from a car while Lindsay and I were trying to walk to the supermarket and almost running after the car to find out the station. Other musical moments of weakness for me included: being forced to listen to Simon & Garfunkle while driving (very difficult to stay awake), the constant reemergence of the Beatles (I realize that they're supposed to be the best band ever, but, well, I got tired of listening to them), and when Robert was hitting on Beth (I know this had nothing to do with music, but please note: Robert's accessory of choice was a Confederate flag hat with the word REBEL embroidered on the back).
We drove up to Tufts at around 6 p.m. Sunday. While I was exhausted and suspected that I was "off," I decided to go to Larina and Pooja's for Oscar night. Besides the travesty of Russell Crowe winning the Best Actor Oscar for a performance that didn't even come close to deserving it, I found the entire ceremony rather unremarkable. Still, all I could think of as I left the house last night was just how "off" I was. I only correctly predicted ten of the 18 major categories. Even worse, I only got two of the top six right. I'm incredibly embarrassed. I don't deserve this column. I don't even deserve my subscription to Entertainment Weekly.
While I had an awesome time on my Volunteer Vacation (VV), I don't feel like I was completely myself. Something was not quite right internally with me and I cannot help but think that my musical situation was to blame. Even Monday, when a bunch of my fellow VV-ers came over for some full contact Uno, I already felt much better. That morning, I had crafted the perfect recuperative play list: Billy Joel, Vitamin C, some bhangra, Mystikal, White Snake, and, of course, Madonna... and the Dixie Chicks. What do you expect? I was in Kentucky for a week.
Stop the presses! I suddenly had a thought. Maybe it wasn't the music. It was just about Thursday when I started feeling "off." And what did I not watch on Thursday night? You guessed it: Survivor.
