Imagine you could draw a map of all the experiences you’ve had in your life, and superimpose it over a map of all the books you’ve read in your life. Here you worried your daughter was failing out of school, here you gave a nun a stick of chewing gum, here you saw a man dressed as a referee weeping in a Honda Accord. And here a boy in an egg-blue suit handed you an ornate invitation to a party at Jay Gatsby’s, here you met the harpooner Queequeg at the Spouter Inn, here you floated a stretch of the Mississippi with a slave named Jim.Since reading that piece, I've been thinking over and over all the maps in my life. I could do a layover of walks that I've taken, houses I've lived in, friends that I've loved, and so on. Lately I've been stuck on the map of music in my life.
I'll be honest: I'm one of those people who obsesses over a song. I play it over and over until I kill it good and dead. I think that makes music especially defining in the emotional and intellectual landscape of my mind. There are dozens of songs I can listen to and be instantly transported back to a different time and a unique set of emotions. There was Bon Iver, Skinny Love and heartache. There was Old Crow Medicine Show, Wagon Wheel and old friends. There was Blitzen Trapper, Furr and falling in love.
