Left to my own devices

It was the mid-1990s. I walked into the record store (aptly-named Record Service), and took stock of where I was. It was situated in an old building on Green St., in campustown. The immediate thought I have when remembering it is 'brown.' I remember the walls as being brown, the shelves were brown, it was just... brown. It felt cozy. There was a sign on one of the walls for a place upstairs called Figaro's. It specialized in classical music. My heart fluttered slightly, as I was partial to classical music, and so seeing that there was some place devoted to it seemed pretty awesome. But, I didn't go there, as I wanted to primarily focus attention on what was on offer at the main record store. It was my first time in that shop. I was familiar with classical music. I was not, it turned out, familiar with what a lot of what Record Service had to offer. There was so much to take in. A few items I remember that stood out were: the greatest hits collection (the best of...

Years ago, my mom, maternal grandmother ("Gummy") and I were sitting around, talking, and the subject of what the favorite time of our lives was came up in conversation. I don't remember what mom's answer was, but Gummy (born in 1928) said, "Probably 1938/1939. that period right in there." She went on to say that she thought most people would, posed with the same question, give an answer that would fall somewhere in their childhood. That often seems to be the knee-jerk, default response most folks have about when they thought things were best. You know, the 'good old days.' What I liked then, and appreciate now, about Gummy's reasoning was its honesty. She acknowledged the personal nature of her response. Of course she thought the world was better when she was ten. Everyone's life is different, but for many, being a kid, unburdened by the responsibilities of adulthood, can come with a unique level of happiness, even if it may only be appare...

     L ast Saturday I drove to Lafayette, Indiana, ostensibly to look at a car. The deal couldn't be made (hail damage to my current vehicle, which had previously gone unnoticed, needs to be repaired first), so only half of the time there was spent at the dealership. I almost left for home straight afterward but my conscience drew me to Tippecanoe Memory Gardens, a cemetery where the remains of my friend Bret are interred. A fifteen minute drive from the dealership took me to my destination. I'd been there once before, and remembered the columbarium where Bret's remains were kept in a wall crypt. A sign on the door said that the building was locked at 6:00pm daily. I checked my watch and my heart sank at the realization that it was 6:35pm. Thankfully, the doors were still open, so I walked in. The room was empty (of the living, that is, and full of pew-like seats at a slight angle with a center aisle cutting between them. There, at the front, in a small wall crypt, was Br...

We had some good times together, he and I. It was the nineties, when the world was young(er). I had come out of the closet only a couple of years previously, and had started going to the local gay bar/dance club about a-year-and-a-half after that. I was gradually becoming more comfortable in my own skin. Dad, and my beloved maternal grandmother, Gummy, were yet to become sick and die from cancer. I was going to the local community college. Life was, if not great, good.

I received an e-mail from one of the theater chains, announcing an upcoming screening of Cruel Intentions , to celebrate its 20th anniversary. The movie, originally released in March of 1999, and starring Sarah Michelle Gellar, Ryan Phillippe and Reese Witherspoon (at the height of their popularity), screams '90s to me. Perhaps it is just the moment in my life when I saw it, or the people I knew then? Regardless, seeing the e-mail about it's 20th anniversary re-release induced a wave of nostalgia that gave me pause. The screening of Cruel Intentions in 1999 is a particularly wistful memory, as one of us is no longer here. There were four of us -- Jared, Karmen, Amanda and myself -- and I think we may have actually watched it at a theater in Bloomington, where Amanda was living at the time. I remember it being a fun occasion, mostly because we seemed to enjoy one another's company, and the movie was a tad ridiculous. We laughed at it, sometimes because the movie ha...

It was with a tinge of sadness that I watched Richard Belzer's final scene as John Munch last night on Law & Order: SVU . "Munchkin" (as he was more affectionately known on his original series Homicide: Life on the Street ) had reached mandatory retirement age, and was saying goodbye to the police force. Munch's colleagues threw a party/roast for him, and then at the very end of the episode he packed-up his desk and quietly walked away. Belzer's departure from SVU (which, to be honest, I only began watching in 1999 because the Munch character had transferred from Baltimore to New York) affects me because of his ties to Homicide and, in extension, my life at that time. The older I get, the more memories I have, and the more they tend to shape and mold my life. When a through-line of that life, even a minor part of it, ceases, then it can cause a moment to reflect. Odd as it may sound, Det. John Munch is such a through-line.

There was a free sampling of Sirius/XM Radio over the Labor Day weekend, and so I was able to partake of its offerings for a few days. I had the satellite radio package for a free, three-month trial after purchasing a car last year, but while it contained a nice variety of music and information channels, it wasn't enough for me to sign-up and become a paying customer. And this weekend reminded me of a glaring issue with one of its stations -- 90s on 9 (or, music from the 1990s, on the 9th channel of Sirius/XM 1). The issue, dear reader, is that the 1990s presents too-diverse of a line-up to provide a coherent listening experience. The aforementioned issue (opinion?) isn't a new one. I can remember sitting at my friend Terry's apartment, circa 1997, when he remarked upon the diversity of Top 40 radio for the decade. I consider Terry to be somewhat of an authority when it comes to the world of music, and so what he said carried some weight. I thought about it, and ...