Mental Soundtracks And Following Where They Lead

I've always had a mental soundtrack running - something will remind me of a song lyric, and that song will pop into my head and stay there until something else comes along and pops it back out.  Given my eclectic music tastes, the songs have ran the gamut - Oingo Boingo to EmmyLou Harris to Gwar to Jane Oliver.  Although usually, it's lyric-driven, so not a lot of classical or jazz...

I've started posting each morning on Facebook whichever song happens to be running through my mind at the moment.  This morning it was Tea and Sympathy from Janis Ian - I do love the way she writes.  Looking around, I also found a terrific version of her singing "At Seventeen" recently, and it
hit home much more coming from a woman looking back, than from a young girl.

At Seventeen

But it reminded me of a moment back in the office - one of those first times when I realized that I was getting old.  We were sitting around talking, and someone brought up high school, and how much they had enjoyed it - cheerleader, homecoming queen, yada yada.  I muttered something about how the song "At Seventeen" was the only thing that got me through high school and looked at a sea of blank faces. 

Seriously - an entire table of people who had never heard the immortal lines "For those of us who knew the pain of valentines that never came, and those whose names were never called when choosing sides for basketball... It was long ago and far away, the world was younger than today and dreams were all they gave for free to ugly duckling girls like me."  How on earth could that happen? 

At Seventeen gave me hope that there was more to life than which cafeteria clique you were in, and that life could get better when you had more life choices (ok, and that those who bloomed early like the homecoming queen would fade away - what can I say?  I was a vengeful little geek.) 

And it turns out that yes... if you continue to grow (and if you don't settle), your life is a lot more than it was back then.  You find your feet, and your voice, and (if you're lucky) your particular Valentine - the one who makes sense of it all for you and keeps you sane (thank you, Roger).  The ugly duckling can grow into a neon-purple swan, given the chance and the room.  She just needs to get out of her cage.