November 17

 

The One and Only Time I Wore Spandex to Work

It was 1997 and I have no idea why I thought that it would be a good idea, because really, what kind of sloppy fuck wears spandex pants to work?  Even coupled with Doc Martin boots and a men's shirt, the choice sticks out strangely in my head because the one and only time I ever wore a pair of spandex pants to work was the day Tina had the brain aneurysm.  Funny how that is, isn't it?  That something like that would stay with me for all these years?  I have no idea whether or not I'd chosen a different outfit had I known that the day was going to end up how it did.  Maybe not.  Certainly, I don't remember what I wore the day before or after. 

A few months ago, I wrote about getting a phone call from my mom, worried because she'd been trying to call my grandparents and they weren't answering and how I sped over there  in my pajamas, basically, with wet hair jammed into a cap.  As I drove over, I remember waiting at a light and very consciously shutting my radio because I knew that if I was driving to a bad situation, I didn't want the last song I'd heard to be the thing that reminded me of it forever, burning into my mind an association of "this song = that tragic event".   Fortunately, it turned out to be nothing and they were fine, so as soon as I got back into my car for the drive home, I turned the radio back on, sort of laughing at myself.

On the morning of 9/11, I was listening to Bob Marley's "Kaya" CD as I drove to work.   At 5:00, in a mostly stunned and silent New Haven, I kept right on listening to Kaya and listened to it constantly for the next month.  It was Kaya or nothing.   To this day, I can not in my head separate what happened that day and Kaya.  It didn't ruin the music for me, I don't think.  It just kept me remembering and always will.  It's funny how that is, isn't it?

 

 

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