All We've Ever Had is Time

There's this mentally handicapped guy that goes to my school. We are friends, though I'm not 100% sure he knows my name. Let's call him Doug (not his real name). He's not severely handicapped; he's independent enough that at first I thought he was just kind of weird.

Doug has the absolute definition of a one-track mind. The only thing, and I mean literally the only thing he ever talks about, is how time flies. Every single conversation we've had, every single conversation I've overheard between him and someone else, and every conversation with him that anyone's ever mentioned revolves around the notion that "time flies". Doug's gotten real good at this conversation, goodness knows he's held it enough times. He's got four dozen euphemisms for "time flies", like "yep, it just keeps chuggin' along, just like a freight train!", or "man, ______ sure is comin' up quick, it'll be here in no time flat!". Even his little blurb below his facebook profile picture is about how time flies.

Time does fly. Doug is right, perhaps more right than I'd like to admit. I need look no further than the little paintings that past residence students have left on the stairwell walls. Each flight commemorates a floor from a given year, a bunch of identical shapes personalized with roommates' first names and last initials, and a little quote or picture.

"WWF Forever" one reads. Another has the MXPX head. Girlier ones have things like "Laurie H. and Jennifer R. BFF 2001" or "Small town girl and city slicker meet, unfortunately, in 407". These little tokens of memories mean nothing to us that call this place home right now, but they are dearly beloved to people long since grown up and moved away, not really so very long ago.

Like Doug is always quick to point out, before I know it I'll be grown up and moved away too. I'll never get these days back. Doug helps remind me that it's a crime to waste the time I've been given at King's. He helps me remember that, every time I feel like just trying to get through the week so I can sleep away the weekend. I'm older now than I've ever been, and it only gets worse.

So truly, as cliched as these words are, make the most of every day. Doug does.

This is the Sound, of the Desperation Bound

I spent last weekend in Vegreville, picking up a few lifeguarding shifts, shoring up the bank account for Christmas shopping season. The other guard, instead of turning on our mainstay radio station (91.7 The Bounce), opted in favor of a new radio station: 95.7 The Sound.

The slogan for The Sound is "Because good music is good music. Period." Every time announcer lady smugly uttered it, I felt like I was taking crazy pills. In my opinion, no one, perhaps least of all this particular radio station, has a right to say such a thing.

Firstly, what makes music "good"? In order to proclaim that "good music is good music, period", there must be a clearly defined set of empirical guidelines for judging a song's "goodness", something that clearly does not, and cannot exist. If I were to ask the jazz saxophonists in my MacEwan graduating class, the girls on 4th Floor, and my mom what makes music good, I would get distinctly different answers from each group. For example, the jazz guy would look for technical proficiency and swing feel, the girls would be looking for catchiness and danceability, my mom would be looking for family values or something.

But, you might be thinking, isn't this flawed reasoning? Don't each individual's judging criteria all boil down to simply deciding how enjoyable the music is? This is true, but it doesn't give 95.7 The Sound any more right to say that "good music is good music, period". Every kind of music, regardless of how much one person hates it, is another person's favorite, or else it wouldn't get played. One man's trash is another man's treasure.

Speaking as a person with very narrow and fickle musical taste, I can at least usually understand why people love the kinds of music they love. If 95.7 The Sound played an incredibly diverse cross section of music across genre, decade, and culture, they might deserve the benefit of the doubt. But 95.7 The Sound, from what I heard of them over 2 shifts of lifeguarding, plays mostly bland, monotone, mid-tempo, un-catchy rock songs from North America over the past three decades. For 95.7 The Sound to say, repeatedly and determinedly, that "good music is good music, period", they are saying that anyone who doesn't love bland, mid-tempo rock, and absolutely nothing else, is either misguided or stupid.

It may sound like I'm hating on 95.7 The Sound's choice of songs, and I am, but that's exactly the point. They are hating on my choice of music by saying that only the music they play is any good at all, and then not playing a single song I enjoyed. Other radio stations also play very specific kinds of music, but they manage to do so without dismissing every other type of music as no good. Each to his own, so to speak. Not 95.7 The Sound.

The statement "good music is good music, period" is nonsensical. 95.7 The Sound, if for some reason you're reading this, let me suggest some new, more accurate tag lines for your illustrious radio station:

"The music our very specific audience enjoys is, in fact, the music our very specific audience enjoys. Period."

"Good music doesn't exist outside an individual's perception of it, but hey, here's some bland, mid-tempo rock! Period."

"You should feel bad about the music you listen to, because it's not what we play, and we are better judges than you because we are a radio station. You should stop listening to what you listen to and, in an attempt to feel like a part of an exclusive group that is so much cooler than all those people who listen to something other than bland, mid-tempo rock, listen to only 95.7 The Sound from now on so we can maximize our advertising revenue. Period."