08-07-2004, 01:32 PM
It was the early 90's when my husband picked up a tape by a band called The Tragically Hip. The title of it was called "Road Apples", and he would play it now and then when we were driving somewhere.
I would inevitably cringe, and suffer through it - wondering how our usual synch with music taste could veer so off course. The band was too raw, and the vocals grated on my nerves. I would let him get through the tape one time, and then insist on putting in something else.
So, much to my chagrin, he later bought a new tape by them called "Day for Night". He played it, and I tried my best to block out the noise as I went about my business. He kept saying to me..."I don't know why, but this band is really growing on me. Give it some time... maybe you'll like it too."
Yeah, RIGHT! His insistence almost made me want to dislike them even more... so I didn't give it much thought.
And then, one day... we had just finished loading up the car for our annual trek down to the Oregon Coast. We hit the road, turning up the familiar highway that cuts through the mountains... a good five hours of driving ahead of us.
He tried to hide the fact that he was putting The Hip into the stereo... but I knew what he was doing. I sunk back in my seat a little more, bracing myself for their music while careening over the high mountain passes. 'Grace, Too' began to filter in through the speakers, and I stared out the window at the endless pine trees rushing by.
~*~He said "I'm fabulously rich... c'mon let's just go..."~*~
As I sat there...despite all my efforts, the music got into my brain. Gord's vocals strolled right past my irritation, and gave a little pat to my Temporal Lobe. It was as if he was right there saying, "sort this, honey... sort it out!"
The band... they sounded so powerful. The energy was lurking beneath the surface, and was churning up the water in dark, brooding ways. And there was Gord, leading the whole freight train right through my conciousness.
I found myself staring straight ahead at the road... smiling to myself. Something had just happened... something really, really good.
The song ended, and in the space between... I murmured outloud, "Wow... they rock."
My husband glanced at me. "What?"
"That band... they... they rock!"
He grinned. We looked at eachother a moment, and then back at the road. The tape kept playing..... and by the end, I was laughing out loud.
Yeah, this band rocked. Kicked ass. Blew my mind. Ruined me for all other bands.
"So you see it now? You see what I mean?!?" my husband said.
"Oh yeah. Without... a...freaking... doubt." I said. And I meant it.
We didn't listen to anything else during that whole trip.
Ever since then, we've been in complete unison about our love for The Hip. A soundtrack to life, Gord style. So many stories to tell about it, too - but I'll save those for another ramble.
So now I look back, and can't believe there was a time when I couldn't stand The Hip. Silly me. I should've known there was no resisting them.
~*~Fox~*~ :thumb:
I would inevitably cringe, and suffer through it - wondering how our usual synch with music taste could veer so off course. The band was too raw, and the vocals grated on my nerves. I would let him get through the tape one time, and then insist on putting in something else.
So, much to my chagrin, he later bought a new tape by them called "Day for Night". He played it, and I tried my best to block out the noise as I went about my business. He kept saying to me..."I don't know why, but this band is really growing on me. Give it some time... maybe you'll like it too."
Yeah, RIGHT! His insistence almost made me want to dislike them even more... so I didn't give it much thought.
And then, one day... we had just finished loading up the car for our annual trek down to the Oregon Coast. We hit the road, turning up the familiar highway that cuts through the mountains... a good five hours of driving ahead of us.
He tried to hide the fact that he was putting The Hip into the stereo... but I knew what he was doing. I sunk back in my seat a little more, bracing myself for their music while careening over the high mountain passes. 'Grace, Too' began to filter in through the speakers, and I stared out the window at the endless pine trees rushing by.
~*~He said "I'm fabulously rich... c'mon let's just go..."~*~
As I sat there...despite all my efforts, the music got into my brain. Gord's vocals strolled right past my irritation, and gave a little pat to my Temporal Lobe. It was as if he was right there saying, "sort this, honey... sort it out!"
The band... they sounded so powerful. The energy was lurking beneath the surface, and was churning up the water in dark, brooding ways. And there was Gord, leading the whole freight train right through my conciousness.
I found myself staring straight ahead at the road... smiling to myself. Something had just happened... something really, really good.
The song ended, and in the space between... I murmured outloud, "Wow... they rock."
My husband glanced at me. "What?"
"That band... they... they rock!"
He grinned. We looked at eachother a moment, and then back at the road. The tape kept playing..... and by the end, I was laughing out loud.
Yeah, this band rocked. Kicked ass. Blew my mind. Ruined me for all other bands.
"So you see it now? You see what I mean?!?" my husband said.
"Oh yeah. Without... a...freaking... doubt." I said. And I meant it.
We didn't listen to anything else during that whole trip.
Ever since then, we've been in complete unison about our love for The Hip. A soundtrack to life, Gord style. So many stories to tell about it, too - but I'll save those for another ramble.
So now I look back, and can't believe there was a time when I couldn't stand The Hip. Silly me. I should've known there was no resisting them.
~*~Fox~*~ :thumb:
