Saturday, November 06, 2004
From the Top of the Ocean
I will officially be old when I stop buying music on a regular basis. That means: when going to the record store feels quaint and reminiscent of an earlier me. When taking the plastic wrapper off won't be as annoying as it is now. When the music feels like a treat, yet I don't listen to it much. Meaning, I'll put it in the player, but I won't pore through the liner notes and study the lyrics.
I walked through the store the other day and saw this guy who looked exactly like an old friend of mine. He was the same height, build, hair color, you name it. He even moved like my friend. He wore his hat the same way. He picked at the cds with the same casual laziness. I almost wanted to ask him his last name it was so close.
That reminded me of when I took classes at UWM, because all the time I'd see people there who looked exactly like friends. I'd walk through the building, thinking, "Christ, that's Kyle's lost twin," or "He looks just like Rob." And so it became easier to see how we can all fit into a stereotype of some kind. Everything seemed a whole lot less unique.
I walked through the store the other day and saw this guy who looked exactly like an old friend of mine. He was the same height, build, hair color, you name it. He even moved like my friend. He wore his hat the same way. He picked at the cds with the same casual laziness. I almost wanted to ask him his last name it was so close.
That reminded me of when I took classes at UWM, because all the time I'd see people there who looked exactly like friends. I'd walk through the building, thinking, "Christ, that's Kyle's lost twin," or "He looks just like Rob." And so it became easier to see how we can all fit into a stereotype of some kind. Everything seemed a whole lot less unique.
