Dangers of music

Last night when I was dozing off I dreamed there was this entire extra house next door to us that belonged to a friend of my mother-in-law’s. She had given it on loan to her. We went inside of it and it was filled with more things we have no use for like all the things she gave us that are in our garage that we don’t need and have to have a garage sale for one day when she’s not paying attention to our ungratefulness. In the dream we were responsible for these things too, an entire extra house of old things we didn’t want to have to look after.

Then I woke up, suddenly, heavily, burdened with it. I was beginning to be afraid I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. When I realized it wasn’t true. There wasn’t this entire extra house full next door.

Jacob was very excited about going on a class trip today to Forest Valley. What was particularly exciting was the level of independence he was going to be experiencing, separated into an adultless group of four other guys from his class. You’re supposed to do mapping from station to station but Jacob says he already knows how to do mapping. What he would like to do is just wander around under the trees wherever it takes him. I probably should have said something to him about that.

I don’t get sending a litterless lunch. Jacob said that means I have to put everything in plastic containers instead of saran wrap and plastic baggies. I said, look, just put the plastic baggies back in your lunch bag when you’re done with them, the same as what you would do with a plastic container. But according to him, that wouldn’t be the same.

Rain boots is another problem. When do kids need to wear rain boots these days? I had some for him about three years ago. He wore them a few times.

I was sitting in the driveway after I came home from dropping Jacob off; listening to this beautiful local band called Broken Social Scene Larry just introduced me to, the rain rippling on the car window so beautifully. No wonder they always take that shot in movies. I was so stupid when I was a teenager. I didn’t understand anything. The beauty of being that way was in the music listening. Back then I would never get sick of songs I liked. Now I have to be so careful.

I was listening to this U2 CD in the kitchen preparing dinner for a few days in a row. I was gobbling it up. But now I can’t stomach the thought of listening to it again. When I hear Bono on the radio, any Bono, I have to change the station. And I think terrible things about his earnest visions. I think the worst of him. Don’t talk to me about it because I’m malicious.

Sometimes the passion of the music would sweep up so high it would meet and then obscure the sound of the heavy rain on the car roof. Then the rain slowed down so you could see the separate dots of it on the car window like a hundred different dimples breaking out from smiling or like being in a kind of speeded up time that allowed you to see from the inside the craters getting formed on the moon.