The Show Goes On

I played the saddest songs -- on purpose.

“Isabelle told me you sing in the shower,” my sister said. “How didn’t I know this?”

Probably because the two of us haven’t lived together since you were five and I went to college. By then, the cheap shower radio mom got me a few years before was long gone.  

Let me be clear, I don’t sing well. But that doesn’t keep me from singing in the shower and on the way to work. I also sing aloud on my 5:30 morning walks because it’s just me, the deer, the turkeys, the bunnies, and a few stray coyotes. 

My first memory of belting out tunes is with my brother Mark in 1980. We bounced on the orange shag rug in our basement taking turns with a plastic Fisher Price microphone to sing I Love a Rainy Night. I rarely hear it on the radio now, but when I do, I’m back in Brockton, next to Mark, and my insides sparkle.

When Shane left, I played the saddest songs – on purpose. Ones that reminded me of the love lost, the rejection, the pain. More nights than I care to remember, I sank onto the bathroom floor tile, whispered the depressing lyrics, and sobbed. It sounds sad, and it was, but it also felt good to “get it all out,” as my mother says. 

One morning, YouTube shuffle played The Show Goes On. I played it on repeat, convinced the lyrics had been written for me in that (really, this) moment. Initially, it made me cry (everything made me cry). But now, it makes me smile because the show does go on.  

Music is magical. The force of emotion it sparks – both good and bad – ceases to amaze me. It holds space for tears of joy and heartache – a connection with people and places. 

Music represents versions of ourselves and our world then and now.

My favorite ones look like:

Sweet Freedom and rolling around in the backseat of my mother’s car that had two big heavy doors, sticky window handles, and manual locks. (I’ll listen to Michael McDonald all day long…)

P.Y.T. when I was in 3rd grade and the Thriller album was released. I spent that Saturday at my friend’s house listening to it on a record player. I walked home in bliss. It remains my favorite MJ track.

My elementary school years were filled with movie soundtracks, ones I’ll listen to forever. In 5th grade, my besties and I sang tunes by Bon Jovi and Madonna in the lunchroom, at recess, and during birthday parties. 

The songs that bring me back to 8th grade make me cringe except for this one that remains my favorite song of all time. This one reminds me of the huge crush I had on Frankie Burke, who agreed to dance with me at an after-school dance, but the whole time I was mortified because my hands smelled like onions after a rotation in home economics that day. And I couldn’t escape junior high without NKOTB. 

High school ones remind me of crushes. Like Dave who loved Guns and Roses. And watching The Bodyguard with Jay. Going to the movies with Jeremiah and seeing Sleepless in Seattle. 

The ones that make me stand up and dance are the ones with my besties. Mary Ellen and I must have played this one until the cassette wore out (oh the stories her dorm room could tell….). Sheila and I got ready for UNH frat parties listening to DMB. I fell in love with a guy at UNH who reassured me we did have a song.

When Emily was sick, I ran on the treadmill across the street from the hospital listening to this on repeat. The anger matched my anger. And when I wanted to cry and “let it all out,” I listened to this. 

Then my life got so serious. And I stopped singing. I detached from my feelings and distanced myself from music, not on purpose, more by circumstance. The girls had their jams that we listened to ad nauseam. But me? I listened to self help books on audio when I was alone in the car. 

Over the past 18 months, music’s saved me. Tunes have connected me to people and memories I love. They remind me of versions of myself I want to reconnect with. The ones that laughed so hard that Diet Coke poured from my nose because it had nowhere else to go. 

I can’t go an entire post without mentioning Taylor Swift who puts words to my experience and coaches me through hard days. 

But right now, it’s this one and this one that make me feel good. 

What’s on your playlist??? I want to make a new one!