Falling or Flying

Tonight, I look out my kitchen window and I see the sky and I have to be a part of it. I strip off my socks and leave my phone on the counter and walk out into the starlight.
It's always been this way, as long as I can remember. Whenever I feel stressed, or sad, or crazy, or just full of memories, I go out to my swings.
Mine, with the chains that are just right in my hands. And I pump my legs and look up at the wintery night sky and suddenly I'm flying towards that one bright star overhead.
So much has changed. Years have passed, and now I'm a nineteen year old woman (more woman than girl, anyway) in her college sweatshirt, with her thong hanging out the back of her jeans. There have been losses and loves and lots of laughter, but still, the swinging is the same.
I leave all anger and resentment and fear on the ground.
I take whatever is weighing on me up with me and I send it up and away.
It may not last forever, but whatever it is, it is at least a temporary reprieve.
When my dog, Brookie died, I was soon out on the swing.
And at college, when I got bogged down studying for finals, there I was, out on the new swings I found.
That's how I know I'm the same. That's how I know I'll always be a kid.

Torn

What if we hang out? Will I be able to resist you? We hadn't seen each other in so long. I missed you, missed being your friend. But when I heard that hugging me was one of your best moments lately, I knew even though  I didn't admit it until now, I'm a goner. If I see you again and you want to hug me, kiss me, fuck me, I will relent, I will happily let it happen. And I know that I shouldn't, that it would be bad, complicate things. But what if it didn't? What if we were just exes that had sex? It doesn't work that way, of course, I'm not naive anymore. But still. And of course, there's always that part of me that wants the bad thing just because it's bad. Because it causes a little pain or a good reason to complain, to bitch, to cry. I'm not proud of that, but it's the truth. It probably won't happen. Because I'm sure you don't think of me at all that way anymore. Or just look back at all that as a fond memory. Then I would be hurt because you didn't want me. I can't win here anymore. But I still don't care. I don't want you back. You pissed me off so bad sometimes I couldn't stand to be near you. But you were funny and young and innocent somehow and we laughed a lot. And you're so hot. God, your body. Don't get me started. I just want you to kiss me hard and hold me really tight and throw me up against a wall. That's all.

All I Want

All I want is to have my own place with a little garden, or maybe a balcony with pots of flowers on it and some chairs so I can sit outside. I want to be able to walk around barefoot all the time, except when it's cold, and hang out in jeans and a tee shirt and a flannel. I want to live there with my newest best friend and I want to be able to sit outside and drink beer and talk. All I want is to bake all the time and cook chicken stirfry and watch The Kids Are All Right  and cry a little because it's so good. I want to paint the walls of my apartment and fill it with things I love and funky furniture because I'm just a poor college student. I want to sleep in a giant comfy bed with a big down comforter.

Big Girls Don't Cry

There are many things I don't understand. I don't understand people who can't laugh, I don't understand people who take everything seriously, and I don't understand people who cannot appreciate the beauty in everything, be it honest or sad or funny or horrible or anything. I don't think I will ever be anything other than a fundamentally happy person. And I am lucky enough to know what to do to keep myself pretty happy. I know that I don't need to work hard to be happy, or to make a lot of money; all I need is music and laughter and my people. That's it. I do not understand the drive to work hard just for the sake of working hard. I do not understand wanting ALL the money. I would like enough money so that I do not have to worry, but that's highly unlikely. Music therapists do not get paid that much. I will work hard enough to reach my goal, and never so hard that I am not having fun. I've done that. Never again. I will always be the one encouraging everyone around me to relax, to take a break, to watch a movie, to sing a song, to stop and enjoy your family because they won't be around forever, to do what makes you truly happy because life is too short not to. That's what I understand. Finding ways to make yourself happy.

99 Problems, or The Night I Spent Alone At College

Everyone went home for Thanksgiving, but I'm staying this Wednesday night. I'll see my family tomorrow; it would be a waste for them to pick me up tonight. So...
After class I went to Trader Joe's and got: mac & cheese, blackberries, and banana bread for dinner/ breakfast. Sweet. That's balanced (ish) and will go with my Gilmore Girls/ New Girl/ misc. chick flick marathon splendidly.
I walked my friend out and said goodbye, and then decided that 3:12 pm was the perfect time for banana bread and coffee. I didn't bring a knife with me to college. I have 2 spoons and 2 forks and no knives. Or paper towels. Attempting to break off pieces of banana bread is thoroughly unproductive so I finally find a pocket knife, slice the bread, and proceed to lick crumbs off the knife (thankfully the not-sharp edge). I do not know what's happened to me today. Since I finished my papers yesterday, I've been in some sort of giddy, free-at-last sort of mood that I really should have saved for after finals. Alas. I take my kicks where I can.
Goddamn if I don't want to practice violin today. I should. It's not like I'm going to do anything else productive AT ALL for the next 4 days.
Tumblr. Y U No let me get things done?!
Also, I love peeling off sunburns, picking a scabs, etc. so it is exceedingly difficult for me to not pick at my healing tattoo. I want to peel it, and then I think about how mad I would be if I fucked up it's beauty forever by doing that.
Time with PhotoBooth, the most time-consuming/self-absorption promoting application ever.
Apparent new philosophy: eat ALL the food and do ALL the things in an attempt to put off practicing violin.
Exuberant, celebratory dance party commences.
Sweet, violin practice, check. It was good too.
Glee and yumminess. Gilmore Girls and yumminess. New Girl, SNL, and bed early.
It was so nice to spend a night alone. My first night totally alone in 2 months.

My Generation

I have never been more proud to be somewhere than I am now. Yesterday there was a rally to protest the police brutality/pepper spray incident, and around 5,000 people showed up. I have never seen anything as incredible. I stood alongside one of my TAs, listening to students speak on the recent events. Two of my professors emailed their students about what's going on and encouraging everyone to participate, or at least educate themselves on what's going on. Here, teachers can stand up for things along with their students in a way that can never happen in high school. Here, you can sit in the quad, you can sit in a tree, you can hold signs, you can sing, you can make art to stand up for what you believe in, and your teachers will stand up for it with you. There were women, men, and children of all races and ages. Alumni, freshman, grad students, little kids who were probably missing a day of elementary school. I love this, and I have to be a part of it. So I will be participating in the General Strike next Monday; I will be in the quad protesting the tuition increases and police brutality and injustice. I got to vote for it, and I will be there making it happen.

Crimson and Clover

What could be better than losing your virginity and then walking out into a hallway of people cheering for you? That's my favorite scene in Pirate Radio, when Carl loses his v-card to Marianne and he goes into the hall and the Count is giving a play-by-play to everyone listening on the radio. Losing your virginity is something that should be celebrated. I make cakes or deserts for my friends when they finally get it in. I'm even thinking about investing in a penis-shaped cake pan just for this reason, but then I realize that a penis cake would not apply to all my friends (but a vag cake pan would be gross), and the majority of my friends that I would bother to make a cake for have already lost it. Don't worry if you haven't, you will. You just have to start throwing your cat at more people I guess. Unless you want it to be special or some shit like that.

All You Need Is Love

Loving yourself is key. No one is perfect. Everyone has flaws and annoying shit they do and hang ups and complexes, but you can't let them get to you that often. Everyone has days where they're just like, "Good lord, I am such a self-absorbed fuck up. What am I doing with my life?" That's fine, but if you let that become your mindset all the time, you will be a very unhappy person.
Appreciate yourself and all you have to offer. Remind yourself of all your good traits until you feel better and don't have to think about it so much anymore. Make peace with your body. To quote one of my favorite movies (Connie and Carla): "Girlfriends, big or small, thin or fat, worship that body, 'cause it's the only one you've got." Life is too short to not eat all the chocolate I want. It really is. And I will die a happier person because I eat what I want, and do what I want.
I've made peace with myself, and I love myself. Do you?

Jesus Loves You But Everyone Else Thinks You're An Asshole

One day we're watching three movies in a row and eating a box of cookies and laughing like crazy fools and the next day we're all sitting in our own rooms studying like serious students and looking up scholarships and texting each other about finding an apartment for next year and what classes we're taking next quarter. College is like nothing else. You live with your friends and study with your friends and eat with your friends and go out with your friends and pretty soon you're closer to them than you are with people you've known for five years. Somehow you usually don't want to strangle them.
We're all together, but we're all by ourselves, too. I have to be in charge of all my own stuff now. If I can't figure it all out and get my own shit together then I end up fucked. Luckily, I am pretty good at keeping my shit together. I'm an obsessive list-maker, and an obsessive over-planner. Both of those qualities make it easy-ish for me to stay on top of things. Let's see how far they get me.

Pardon Me

When get my bike out of the racks in the morning now I always stop and smell the air. It's been changed for a few weeks now but I still love the smell each time as if it's brand new. The decaying yellow leaves I ride past remind me strongly of the place I used to go to sing and bond with some of the most special people in my life. I am reminded of the place and of them several times each day, and I always smile and send a little love and light their way and then drop it. Fall has been a time of new things for me: a time of new flannels, new boots, new music, new loves. I don't have a new boy this fall, and that's okay. Now is not the time for a boy to love, now is the time for listening to Mozart and making a powerpoint while my friends read and now is the time for taking time to sit outside and drink coffee and just think. The newness of this has worn off, but that's okay too. Fall is not a season of new things this year, it is instead a season of cozy comfort and family and turkey and scarves and mashed potatoes and preparing yourself for the cold ahead by figuring yourself out enough to not want to rip your eyes out when you're frozen alone with your thoughts in the middle of February.

Hey, Man, Now You're Really Livin'

Yesterday I experienced the height of sophistication (for college), and the height of...drunkenness is the only word I can come up with. I put on a nice dress and did my makeup and biked to the beautiful theater where I was privileged enough to get to see Hilary Hahn perform. She is an incredible violinist; I was completely transfixed by her music. I took notes because I have to write a paper on the concert, but when she played the Fugue movement of one of the Bach unaccompanied sonatas, I experienced a liminal moment.
After the concert, I rode my bike home alone, in the dark & the freezing cold, talking to myself the whole time like a crazy person. Maybe it was just because Halloween was so close, but I was a little creeped out. Thank god I hadn't watched the new Halloween yet or I would have been a basket case. I put on my slutty clothes and was good to go.
What happened for the next hour and a half is irrelevant; it is safe to say it was lame. We ended up downstairs in a friend's room watching Halloween and drinking copious amounts of alcohol. I learned a new drinking game and I had a great time.
Sitting here now with my Cheetos, I know that I love both of the things I did last night, and that it's okay. I can be the classical music-loving girl my parents know me as and a girl who wears slutty Halloween costumes and takes shots on a Saturday night too. I'm happy to know that I'm doing things that make me happy and that I'm having a fan-fucking-tastic time here. That's pretty much what matters right now.

I'll Make A Man Out of You

Real men sing unabashedly. Even if they can't sing very well, a real man will belt out songs with you, and an even better man will sing along with you when you watch musicals together. I spent the last four years of my life in choir, and all of my friends were choir people. I had forgotten what it was like to be around guys who were afraid to spontaneously burst into song. Luckily, my girl friends here sing too.
Guys who are afraid to sing because they think it's "gay" have some sort of insecurity with their sexuality. Dudes, if you like singing and you're confident about it, people won't give you shit for it. Most people actually think it's really cool if you sing. I promise. It'll score you chicks.

She's So Heavy

I woke up yesterday, startled and with my right arm completely numb, in a room I still haven't fully adjusted to. I woke up in the same house for the last 15 years of my life, waking up here is very different. I went to breakfast by myself, which doesn't actually bother me. I've always enjoyed some solitude; as an only child, you must adapt to spending time by yourself. What I had for breakfast is immaterial. I slung by backpack on and got on my bike. I've grown very attached to her in the last two and a half weeks. We've been through stuff together now. I went to my music lit class and got entrenched in beautiful music, and I felt for the hundredth time since I've been here that this is where I belong. This is right. Who knows what else I did. I know I studied and I know I fell into my new Monday routine. I watched movies with my friends and laughed A LOT and made gross jokes and felt like I belonged. Nothing feels better to me than that.

Delirious Love

My mom came to take me to the dentist today. Even though I have moved away from home, and have been functioning fully on my own for a week and a half now, she still drove out to take me to get fillings. I didn't feel like any less of an adult (or any less of an adult-aged person who often makes ridiculous choices on weekends). As I was high on nitrous oxide and getting my teeth drilled into, I thought about how lucky I am to have a mom as wonderful as mine. I was filled with appreciation and understanding, suddenly, of how far a mother will go for her child. This may or may not have had something to do with the fact that my lovely dental assistant and my mom were discussing what limbs they would lose for their children, but regardless, I understood something new. Maybe being away from my family for a little while made me realize how much I love them.

Tea for the Tillerman

I didn't know just how happy singing makes me. I knew I missed it, and that if I didn't find some kind of way to be singing again that there would be some void in me. It does something different for me than playing violin does. For me, singing is all about community, the people I'm with, singing in a group. Violin is something I do by myself, and for myself, almost exclusively. When I was in art class in 7th grade, we were asked to do some sort of project on what made us feel like our best selves, or something to that affect. I immediately thought of violin, and running. I love sprinting. The feeling of taking everything you have and powering through it as fast as you can and leaving everything or nothing behind. I feel the same way when I play violin well. I pour whatever it is I'm feeling into Mozart or Bach and what comes out is just for me, good or bad. I sing because it joins me to people and because I love it. I play violin because I need to.

It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry

Things I Ask Myself Now That I'm In College:
Do staplers work on walls?
If I add the guy next door on facebook, will he come over and watch the Kathy Griffin special on Bravo with me?
Why the fuck does the sound on my laptop only work with my headphones plugged in??
If I eat alone, do people think I'm weird?
Does everyone else feel this weird, just kind of floating around feeling?
Will I be able to keep up in classes?
How do I continue to keep myself from falling off my bike?
Will there be pancakes at breakfast tomorrow?

SexyBack

This is my new life. In my new life I'm not afraid to dance with nice frat boys and no one judges me anymore because we're all here to just have a good time. Everyone here is really nice because everyone wants more friends. Everyone is here to study really hard because, hello, we're all smart, but pretty much everyone wants to party too. I feel welcome and I feel like I belong already. I'm so happy to finally be here.

Wake Me Up When September Ends

Songs that represented feelings. Entire months or stages of your life. This song will always touch me deeply and bring me back instantly to how I felt when I watched the music video, sobbing about my pre-teen heartbreak because 1) I was twelve and it was really sad and 2) because I didn't really understand that it was a protest video because I didn't really get war yet. So I still cry when I watch this video because the young love and the fact that he goes off to war both really get to me.
I feel things really strongly. My emotions, other people's emotions, it doesn't matter. Often times what I feel is misplaced, though. It takes me a while to process things, and I often use humor as a very effective defense mechanism. While I do believe that humor can be found in any situation, if I'm laughing while I would probably be better off crying, it means I'm hurting pretty bad.
I also feel a lot of righteous indignation when someone is mean to my friends or my friends are unhappy. I will ALWAYS stick up for my oldest and dearest friends, and I will always stick up for what I am truly passionate about. I am a very loyal friend, if you need me I will be there, and if you have a strange question to ask, I'm your girl. I hope that I will always feel strongly about the people and things closest to me

Teenagers

Things That Annoy and/or Bother Me:
Pretentious nitwits.
People who take things too seriously. Everything can be looked upon with at least a little humor.
People who take themselves too seriously. Really, you're not that great.
Shushers. Hello, what I'm saying is clearly more important than whatever else is going on.
Ignorant people.

If It Kills Me

It's strange for me to think about the people I used to be close to. There was a time when listening to "If It Kills Me" in the car with that boy made me happier than anything else did. He made me feel beautiful, and I had no idea I could feel that way. He introduced me to a lot of different ways of feeling, actually. I felt validated and grown up and loved and heartbroken and crazy. But he made me feel needed and he taught me that no one will ever really change. It was not a waste no matter what it was. I just wish I still knew him, that I still talked to him. Everyone is in your life for a reason, sometimes it's hard to tell when they're not supposed to be in your life anymore.

Jack and Diane

I love being happy. I'm happy most of the time, and I think it's because I always try to soak up all the enjoyment I possibly can. Here's what I've enjoyed in the last couple days:
Just talking to my coworkers and joking around while at work.
Petting my dogs. Since I'm leaving them way too soon I don't take being able to pet them for granted anymore.
Having a dance party in the dark with my friends.
Being able to cope with minor disasters so much better than I used to.
Listening to my parents sing at church.
Packing up my room.
Planning for my birthday and not needing a huge party anymore.
Doing nice things for other people.
Baking a delicious pie.

The thrill of living doesn't have to go away.

I Feel Fine

Yesterday I went to the beach with friends. I drove, which means that there will almost always be some sort of detour, incident, or otherwise unplanned adventure. I'm not a bad driver per se, but I have absolutely no intuition when it comes to directions. Our detour/incident of yesterday happened when, after driving down a wrong road not a forth of a mile from the beach, I insisted on turning around rather than backing out of the narrow road. I drove into a ditch and got the front of the car stuck. Pushing did not help, attempting to drive out did not help. So we hiked down the hill, found a pay phone, hiked back up to get change, and hiked back down to call triple A.
So we camped out on the side of the road to wait for the tow truck. We put down a blanket, we ate our sandwiches, and we talked. My friend brought out her guitar and she played. We ate Airheads, we told stories, we laughed, and we waved at every car that passed us, even though none of them stopped to ask us if we needed help. It was not at all what we had planned to be doing, but it was the best part of the day. It was a simple moment, but it felt so natural, like that was what was going to happen the whole time.

Edelweiss

While watching "The Sound of Music" I'm thinking about how I am proud of my German heritage. (And yes, I do know that it takes place in Austria.) In fact, when I went to Germany many years ago, all I would eat was sausage and chocolate (and broccoli, but that's beside the point), which proved my German-a-tude. If it had been appropriate to give beer to a six-year-old, I'm sure I would have loved that too. I love my German father, who, after all these years, still has not fully grasped English idioms. I love almost all of my relatives over there whom I have met, and I look very much forward to when I can go over on my own and experience it all. But what I really think about while watching this is how I wish I loved my country as much as Captain von Trapp loved his. He couldn't even get though "Edelweiss" without crying, because he knew that his homeland would never be the same again. I will never love America like that. It's too corrupt, too ruined, and has no sense of humor about it. I love California, but I was meant to live in a different time, and I should have been one of those old hippies who got burnt out on America and acid and became an ex-patriot somewhere glamorous, like France. I'll stay here for now, but if Sarah Palin or Michelle Bachman ever become president, forget it, I'm out of here. And on to Austria, with all the nuns.

Back When We Were Grownups

Alas, the title of this post is neither as song nor a bumpersticker. It's a book title that has fascinated me ever since I was little. I have not read the book, or any book by Anne Tyler, actually, but the title inspired such a mind-fuck in my young self that I just keep the thought of it in my brain and bring it out occasionally.
I think my discovery of this title was somewhere around the time when I discovered that my mother was an actual person. It sounds strange, but little kids have different perceptions of things, and I distinctly remember that one day I looked at my mom and thought "Holy guacamole, she's like, a regular person, with so many qualities similar to me that it is extremely freaky!" That last realization came later, but the first part is accurate. With this new insight, "Back When We Were Grownups" threw me for a loop. "What does that mean?" "Is there some age after 'grownups', like when people get reeeeeally old?" "Maybe grownups get confused too." And there it was. Adults also have no fucking clue what they are doing, just like kids (except you get guidance from your parents) and teens (who get guidance and then flail around anyway). And now I get to test this out, this grown-ups-get-confused-too revelation of my youth, in the way we all dream about: going to college and living away from my parents. I couldn't be more elated and terrified because I know I'm going to have no fucking clue, but this time I get to figure out everything for myself.

Move Along

Moving on and moving away. My friends are all leaving in the next week or so. I'm here for another month. So I'm organizing my itunes library. I have many other, better things I should do, but I feel like sitting here using my new headphones to listen to spiffy tunes. I have a lot of good music. Tons of excellent old rock. Aaaaand some wonderful songs from my middle school days, and even earlier. "Cry Me A River", anyone? One time I was watching "Jeopardy" with my grandma and the category was Crimea River and I thought it was THE FUNNIEST THING ever. Also, I love "Juliet"by LMNT, I could rock out to that all day erry day. It makes me happy and it makes me want to dance nerdily. So as all you poor kids are going back to school or moving, crank up the music and bust a sweet move.

The Times They Are A Changin'

Come mothers and fathers throughout the land, and don't criticize what you can't understand, your sons and your daughters are beyond your command, your old road is rapidly aging, please get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand, oh the times, they are a-changin'.

Growing up and moving out. I cannot describe how excited I am. My whole life is changing, and it's changing how I want it to. I've waited for this for forever, and I really didn't think it would ever come. 

I went shopping for college things yesterday at Ikea, which is a wonderful place full of Swedish goodness (the meatballs!!) I got new sheets, a new pillow, towels. And those sheets, pillow, and towels symbolize something so big to me. I am grown up. I get my own life now. I can't wait to start. 

Leaving on a Jet Plane

I am filled with disgust. Disgust for people close to me, disgust for people I used to know better than anyone else did, disgust for the way the government is, disgust for Sarah Palin (but that's nothing new). My disgust stems from disappointment, from being naive and thinking that things change, and from other people's complete ineptitude in certain aspects of their lives. It's interesting that I am not currently disgusted with myself. I am actually finally really happy with who I am and what I am doing with my life. Today I was crushed by the swift and steady hand of disappointment. I hate that other people are able to have such a strong hold over me. I hate that I feel too strongly about most things. It's wonderful when what I am feeling is overwhelming joy or love, and just terrible when what I am feeling is gut-wrenching grief or loss. I wish I could leave those feelings behind.

Now I know what all my English teachers were talking about when they told me that my essays are inconveniently organized. 

Tom Sawyer

I am a movie fan. I like my action movies, complete with stupid dialogue and giant explosions (nice trench coat, Neo). I like my horror movies with needless gore (props, Drive Thru) and stupid talking animals (really, Drag Me To Hell? The goat was really necessary?), and if it's a good horror movie, I enjoy it with fava beans and a nice Chianti. I really love my chick flicks, especially if there's a sing-a-long scene with a dude with lobster claws in the background and even more especially if J.T. is naked except for socks with Mila Kunis. But what I really love is I Love You, Man. I just love that movie. The wondrous comic acting of Paul Rudd and Jason Segal warms my heart, and it leaves everyone with a very important message: love your significant other enough to want them to have their own life. Haha, just kidding. That's stupid. The real message is, girls, give your man blowies.

Bangers, Beans and Mash

I feel left out a lot. I'm an only child, I played alone as a kid, blah blah blah, whine whine whine. As my best friend would say in a very obnoxious voice that's approximately two octaves higher than my actual voice, "I'm L and I like to complain a lot!!!" But I really do feel left out. Left out of jokes, of being a "cool kid" (which don't really want to be, I just would like to be acknowledged by them), left out of being someone's one and only.
I was recently someone's one and only, but it stopped being fun, and one thing I can't do is be in a relationship when it's not fun. Any relationship. If I stopped having fun with my mom, I would disown her as a mother, but that won't ever happen. He was just too different than me, wanted all different things than I do. He likes money, I like being happy. He LOVES cars, I have never given a great horse shit about them. I would rather talk about the news than cars. I just need my car to drive smoothly, blast good music and be able to have bumper stickers on it, and past that I really don't care.
Even though the relationship wasn't right at the end there, I miss being in one sometimes. I feel more in the loop when I have a boyfriend.

Gone

A disclaimer: I don't have a fantastically wonderfully exciting life. But I do enjoy it, and I think that some of my experiences are worth sharing.

Last night was the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 premiere. I was given Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone as a present when I was around 7 years old, and it has been a truly fundamental part of my life since then. I grew up with it. My dad read me each book out loud; even the 7th book, which came out when I was 15. All of my best friends have always loved the book as much as I do, and it made me really happy that I could share the experience of the last movie with them.
The movie was both wonderful and incredibly sad. It affected me more strongly than any other movie I have ever seen has, mostly because I invested my entire childhood in the story, and I watched it all end, beautifully, epically, on the big screen. I couldn't have asked for a better ending.

Why Can't All Music Be As Wonderful As It Was In the '60s?

So, tonight, I'm trying to work on my last homework assignment of high school. No, that's a lie, I'm attempting to write a blog while watching Forrest Gump. What a truly wonderful soundtrack it has. The music written and recorded during the '60s was some of the best ever written. True, it was inspired by 1) a really pointless, bloody, and sad war, 2) a LOT of psychedelic drug abuse and pot smoking, 3) some terrible politicians, and 4) the great free love movement, but, hey, great music has to be inspired by something radical, and what was more radical than the '60s? Nobody has captured great melodies, harmonies, feelings & emotions as well as the great artists of that time. Janis, Jimi, Buffalo Springfield, the Doors (god, Jim Morrison was hot), the Beatles of course, Bob, CCR, The Lovin Spoonful, the Mamas & the Papas, etc should still be played on the radio instead of the pop crap we all listen to today. Now back to homework.