Maniacii de la radio

N-om fi un pic maniaci cu the 80’s? Adica muzica buna s-a scris si alaltaieri, si in 30 de ani de radio am ascultat si descoperit muzica buna oriunde – din desert la Tinariwen pana in piata Romana la Alifantis. Dar pana la urma, stii cum e – nu-i frumos ce-i frumos, e frumos ce-mi place mie – si daca ma uit la CD-urile din masina si la povestile din inima, intr-adevar, anii 80′ au ramas intr-un fel special in mine. Poate si pentru ca atunci am devenit omulet pe picioarele lui, hippiot post factum care in anii 80′ a descoperit si tot ce ratase de fapt in anii 70′ si s-a si pregatit pentru ce urmau sa-i puna pe tava anii 90′. Si da, cred ca nu ma insel daca spun ca in anii 80′ am inceput sa descopar muzica – aceea cu majuscule si pretentii de la istorie. Si felul in care am descoperit-o a facut, la vremea aceea, toti banii!

Terminasem liceul copil [relativ] cuminte, [relativ] silitor si [destul de] citit. Ascultasem la Europa Libera Paper Lace si Sugar Baaaby Love [Sugaaar Baby Looove!…], un iubit din liceu mi-a rupt inima pe fond de Christopher Cross si Sailing, na, nu eram picata chiar din pom, ba chiar ma simteam [relativ] emancipata! Pana m-am dus la facultatea de Arte Plastice sa dau examen de admitere. Atunci m-am simtit ca un papuas aterizat in mall! Sau nu – ca o pitzi de mall aterizata printre papuasi – pentru ca eu eram o prospatura de liceu printre hipiotii de la Arte, barbati si femei in toata firea, unii dintre ei, dezinvolti, miserupisti, oxidati si in general – fabulosi! De la colegii mei oxidati am invatat cea mai buna muzica ever! Si atunci au inceput anii mei 80′.

Si nu, nu suntem chiar maniaci pentru ca veti asculta si 70′, si 90′ si or sa scape si-un 50′, si niste 60′, dupa cum ni se arata intr-o oarecare zi. Ce vrem noi sa zicem insa – vrem sa zicem muzica buna, aia care a trecut si mama testelor timpurilor, aia care si la 40 de ani vechime te scoala din morti si iti da voce sa o canti treaz sau nu, aia pe care o stii de nici nu stii ca o stii, aia care ti-a ramas pe vreo caseta veche, aia care ti-a ramas intr-un colt de inima. Ca noi, mai mamaie si mai tataie, asa, ne bucuram sa ne aducem aminte de ea. Si poate si tu.

Published by Travel Man

The moment I reinvented myself, these were the words that seemed to fit-Travel Man. To see and feel became more important than to have and use. And then I started my journey. Me and my camera. And what I discovered I shared with others, in my own words. And I like to think that because of my journey,someone somewhere discovered the world,walking on my path. And if that really happened, it is the greatest reward for the efforts and adventures of my travels. At the end of the road, the only thing you still carry with you on the Greatest Journey is just... your memories. To gather stuff, to buy houses, cars,refrigerators, to indulge yourself with an extra pair of shoes, beside the other 6 you already have, to get another bank loan, to build another pool.... Such human actions, simple, routine, normal. So earthbound. And so farther from the sky. Because, let's be honest, how many of us, busy and head down tracing the worldly goods, remember to look up to the sky, watching in awe a murmuration of starlings, listening to the perfect whistle of the blackbird, how many of us still feel the thrill of a sea gull's cry, how many still bow when admiring a colony of penguins hatching their eggs at -50 C? We cannot but bow before nature and, as small creatures that we ourselves are, learn from fellow creatures, feathered, furred, with claws or fangs. We should better stay afar and watch, we should not bend nature to fit our modest dimensions. We should better watch and learn and respect their space, we should admire nature's wonders and do that today. Not tomorrow. Because tomorrow might already be too late. For them, but most of all for us. The only form of movement is the journey.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create your website with WordPress.com
Get started
%d bloggers like this: