How to be colorful

The Verve Pipe - Colorful

Hm, I didn't think I'd be repeating bands so soon. But so be it. Generally when I sit down on a Wednesday night to write in here, I try to think about what's been crossing my mind in the past few days. Sometimes, a song comes up on shuffle that sparks a memory. I also have a handful of saved notes of things to write about "eventually", but in the end it all comes down to the spur of the moment. And in all fairness, there's probably two or three more songs by The Verve Pipe that will end up in here eventually, as well as a number of Posies, Radiohead, Dada and any number of other bands I can't remember right now.

But enough with the stalling, let's get to the story.

The first year of college was in all fairness a rollercoaster mess for me. I lost touch with an ex-girlfriend and an ex-band, most of my friends went to a rival college, I was having a difficult time adjusting to dorm life, I actually failed a few classes, I was diagnosed with clinical depression (which I later decided to not take medication for), and oh, I was facing a serious crisis of "what the heck am I going to do with my life." And as messed up as I was for that first year, I absolutely loved the parts of it that were good. I had never actually experienced freedom like this to go anywhere or do (just about) anything. There was a whole town to explore, which was a stark contrast to how I felt about my hometown of downtown Fairfax.

There were a number of places I really liked to go when I wanted to explore, or to get away from my room. There was a bridge across an access road that I would stand on (not for too long, though, because it was a decently major walkway and people would give me weird looks). Another favorite was a ledge in the agriculture quad, a sort of outdoor stage and observation deck of the grassy area (this ledge has been something of a nemesis to me for the last five years, but again, that's another song). But one of my all-time favorite places, and a favorite of many people in the town, was the Duck Pond.

By itself, the duck pond was nothing too special... it was a small pond with water that wasn't exactly the cleanest around, it could be messy or crowded depending on the season, and there were an armful of ducks around asking for bread or small bits of food. But every now and then, the mood was just right and the duck pond was the place to go for reflection, or to picnic, or just to be with someone whose company you enjoyed. I remember one night in particular that the whole area was deserted save for myself and a close female friend of mine. I don't really remember why we went out there that night or how long we had been there, but we ended up wandering around the banks just enjoying the cool evening air. She turned to me, and the following conversation followed (dramatized by a romantic memory, as always):

Her: You should sing something.
Me: What? Why would I sing?
Her: Well, it's what you do, isn't it?
Me: Um... yeah, but that's in a band... with a guitar. It would feel funny just.... singing.
Her: Well why?

And I guess I couldn't come up with a good response to that. So I mulled it over for a while, gave it half a laugh or two, and left a pause in there just so it seemed as if I wouldn't do anything. And honestly, I didn't plan to, and I almost surprised myself when I let forth a whispered melody:

The show is over, close the story book...

And then I just kept on going. It was a strange sensation, singing just to myself, her, and the night's still air. I had always associated the song with her, even long before this one night, but singing it then and there seemed to give it validation, to make it more real. And when it was over, it didn't really seem as if anything had changed, it had just been stated. And that was all that ever passed between us, really, that song - even if it takes me a few years' reflection to really understand it. I made a wonderful friend that year in her, and I know she loves me no matter how neurotic I can be at times. And thank you, thank you for that. Maybe it's a lesson that I wasn't really ready to learn until recently, now that you've gone away from this town.

Now that I think about it, I haven't been down to the duck pond in a long time, possibly in years. Maybe some night when the air's just right, I'll wander down there and see what the colors are.

Plug in, and turn it up...