A Little Sing-Along

Time and distance do a lot to alter one's initial impressions. So much can happen in the intervening weeks between the vacation and the transition back to reality that the glowing memories begin to fade. They do not tarnish, but their freshness, their vitality seep away, and it is difficult to evoke the intensity first experienced while traveling. Still, certain things can trigger an explosion of memories that instantaneously transport me back a few weeks ago. Perhaps the most effective for me is music.

I know that I am not unique in having specific songs remind me of certain experiences or people.  There has to be something about the nature of music that we humans instinctually grasp onto, and it certainly is something through which we can bond. I found this to be especially true with my touring companions in Croatia. Driving back from one of our hikes, there happened to be an uncharacteristic lull in the conversation. So, when a hush descends like that, it makes perfect sense to turn up the music. The selection from the day ranged from traditional Croatian music from the Dalmatian coast (a type of a capella choral called klapa) and Croatian music associated with the North (tamburitza, which explores themes of love and village life with the accompaniment of stringed instruments) to modern American pop music and classic American rock. And it was the distinct music stylings of the Eagles that elicited a good old-fashioned sing along.

An example of the tamburica

Several times, I had heard songs that reminded me of friends from college, from Chicago, and even from work. With those, I quietly mouthed the words, fondly thinking of whomever the song reminded. If any sound ever escaped, it was soft, carefully muted so as not to give away me away. But when the first few chords of "Hotel California" crossed the air waves, my ears immediately perked up and I began keeping time with the music, listening closely for the cue to make an entrance. It is not a song to sing under your breath, but one that demands being sung out loud with feeling. (Okay...so I say this perhaps as an excuse as to why I sang much more loudly before.I will even admit I was probably showing off a little since singing is one of those things I have been told I do well.) And so when the mesmerizing guitar solo at the beginning drew to an end, I didn't even bother singing softly. I joined right along with the others (who also felt the compulsion to sing) and let the song overtake me.

The fact that we could share this music, this song, meant something. Perhaps it was one of those instances where we ascribe far too much meaning to a simple occurrence, but I would like to think not. (Something which I often do, I admit.) The fact that Tom, Marty, Davor and I could sing along without inhibitions or self-consciousness struck me as an example of the bond we had developed in our short time together. Music is something friends share and something that I think defines us. It brings people from all different backgrounds together, and this moment symbolized that for us. And I am certain that from this point on, any time I hear the Eagles, I will find myself not in the room where the music is filtering in but rather in the passenger seat of a van driving through the beautiful Croatian countryside with good friends around me joining in the song.