So I downloaded "Third Stage" from iTunes yesterday to which to rock out while I cleaned up for a couple friends coming over after work. Originally, I was going to buy the album used online, but I wanted it right then. Also, I found the old cassette tape I'd given my sister, so I felt that I had the necessary supplementary information that made downloading just the music sufficient. As a side note I must say that iTunes is friggin awesome (I know, no news here). I want. They have. We exchange a tenner, then I have. And I don't have to make any small talk with the dudes at the record store about how sad it is that Brad Delp died. Or even eye contact. And people say we have an increasingly isolated society. Yeah, if "isolated" means happy to not see or speak to anyone to get what we want, sure!
Anywho, I should have known something was wrong right away when, even as the songs were importing, I fast-forwarded past "Amanda." It was the first song on the tape, and the song we heard necessarily more than the others. It's a great song. But I couldn't hear it again. I thought of the song that I really wanted to hear, "Hollyann." I was singing it in my head, "Oh, Hollyann! We made the dark into light! We saw the wrong and the right!" See, even now, I'm thinking that maybe I should go listen to it. But what I learned yesterday was that I had, some time in 1993, worn out my Boston-listening ears. And I didn't even know it. It's like when I'm doing a million other things at work and then I look down and all my cookies are gone. And I'm like, fuck, where did those cookies go? I didn't even savor the last bite!
And so it was with Boston. I didn't even savor the last harmony.
I don't know. That's not the most apt analogy, but it's all I got on this 23-hour day. I'm off to walk in the gorgeous weather. Maybe I'll try again with Boston sometime.