Song Of The Day 3/28/2017: Neil Sedaka – “That’s When the Music Takes Me”
The Final 2
I have it down here in my notes that today I need to write something “wide-ranging” and “definitive” that covers my “all-encompassing passion” for music and how it “redoubles” my “personal identity.”
This is the best I could come up with:
In a wide-ranging and definitive way, I have an all-encompassing passion for music that redoubles my personal identity.
With Song Of The Day ending after tomorrow’s entry, I thought I’d want to spend some time putting music into some elevated, grandiose context—a real, series-closing zinger of an entry that would hold its own besides other great documents, like the Constitution, the Magna Carta, the Gettysburg Address, Nixon’s “Checkers” speech, the script for Ernest Goes to Camp, you name it.
But honestly, what purpose would that serve? What’s the point in being retrospective? Why be funereal about this? I’m not dead. If I were, I wouldn’t be writing this. I’d be watching TV.
There’s nothing transformative about the end of Song Of The Day. All it means is I’m not going to post a song every single day anymore. On paper I’m getting some valuable creative and thoughtful time back in my daily routine. Although I suspect I’ll use some of that time to nap.
And besides: Somewhat unintentionally, I sewed up my relationship with music pretty well in the final portion of the post about Zune. Since that particular entry is the second-most viewed portion of The Final 50, I figure it’ll carry over. (This, happily, came in first, for now.)
The truth is I’m ending Song Of The Day to reallocate some resources so I could improve my music experience, and in turn my reportage back to the people. I anticipate I'll do some very SOTD-like things in the future. Just not every damn day.
Still, with this feature ending after exactly five years tomorrow, and having received such wonderful support from you over those five years, I do sense the benefit in saying something that carries the air of finality with it. So try this on:
“The music started playing in my head when I was eight. It hasn't stopped yet. It won't stop until I do. It'll be playing as my last memory fades out. Who knows when that'll be.”I’m good with that. I hope you’re good with it too.
I’ll see you in the cherry orchard.