Memory Lane

I would just like to state, for the record, that I have awesome taste in music. Whenever the great musical debates of our age have raged, I've always sided with the right band. Nirvana vs. Pearl Jam? Jigga, please. Blur vs. Oasis? Xtina vs. Britney? I've got nothing to hide.

Anyway, I recently realized that I hardly ever listen to old music when I'm done with it. I listen to CDs intensively for about 3-6 months (recently Regina Spektor like it's my second job), and then I move on. That's pretty much my m.o. for everything, which is why I've had 10 jobs in the last 10 years.

So I broke out some of my old music recently. Some Nine Inch Nails, some Violent Femmes. It feels like opening a time capsule into my teenage and college years. There are times when I feel like I split in half when I became an adult. That a break occurred and I emerged on the other side, fundamentally altered. And then there are times when I feel that I'm the same person I've always been.

Here is my conclusion: We are all collections of our parents' worst and best qualities. And the best you can hope for is to emphasize the good and minimize the bad. This is far harder than it sounds, and it doesn't exactly sound like a cakewalk.