One of the biggest of my life in fact.

My computer started acting twitchy a couple days ago. It wouldn't open documents with a jump-drive in, the next day I got a notice that my anti-virus had been disabled. Unusual? Yeah. Problem? Probably, but I had work to do, so no big deal.
I tried a few attempts to see what was wrong and fix the problem. Then yesterday I tried to access my music. I clicked on a single song and rapidly my music began to disappear before my eyes. It was like it was being devoured by some unseen monster. The little blue sliding bar on the right side of the screen kept getting larger and larger as my music just disappeared. I sat opened mouth for a few seconds of this and then started to shout. David came into see what was wrong and witnessed for himself the massacre. "Do something!" I shrieked at him. He just shrugged and looked kind of helpless. Great.
I watched as my music slowly evaporated. I had slowly accumulated that music collection with the utmost scrutiny and care for years. It had seen my through projects, clean ups, breakups, fights, roommate avoidances. It helped me celebrate, elevated my happiness, related to who I was. It traveled with me cross country and was like a reminder that this still was my life. Each song had been chosen for particular reason and had been listened to for several. And now it was leaving. It was like watching a friend die.

We worked on my computer for hours but it was gone. No trace of it, no recycle bin trash, no shadow, nothing. We even downloaded some 'recovery software' for way too much money and it didn't bring it back. It's gone. All of it. Every last song. Gone.

Now here's irony for you. All that was left were songs that my dad asked me to download for him, consisting of: "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" and "Those Were the Days My Friend" by DOLLY PARTON!!!!! Tell me how wrong that is. Wait, don't. I already know.

To make matters more interesting, at that precise moment when I lowered my head to the kitchen table and sobbed, I see a "new mail icon" pop up. It's an email from my sister. She had sent me a song.

The song is called "Hold on Little Tomato," by a group called the Pink Martini. Oh, the irony. I decided that this song is my new anthem. It is officially the only song that is mine. Below this are the lyrics to the song in case your interested. I would have posted the song instead, but I couldn't figure out how to post a song. I think you would like it, Sis. Morgan, it is kind of comforting in a way. Look it up if you get a chance.

Jenny, I'm glad your back. How's your life? I'd like to hear from you. Anona, how are you doing? How's the job? Chan, I'm glad your glad to be back. EmPo, where are you and what are you doing? Are you happy? Hope all is well.
Lyrics and music: Patrick Abbey, China Forbes & Thomas M. Lauderdale

The sun has left and forgotten me
It’s dark, I cannot see
Why does this rain pour down?
I’m gonna drown
In a sea… of deep confusion
Somebody told me – I don’t know who
Whenever you are sad and blue
And you’re feelin’ all alone and left behind
Just take a look inside and you will find

You gotta hold on, hold on through the night
Hang on, things will be all right
Even when it’s dark
And not a bit of sparkling
Sing-song sunshine from above
Spreading rays of sunny love – just

Hang on, hang on to the vine
Stay on, soon you’ll be divine
If you start to cry, look up to the sky
Something’s coming up ahead
To turn your tears to dew instead

And so I hold on to this advice
When change is hard and not so nice
If you listen to your heart the whole night through
Your sunny someday will come one day soon to you


Travis & Jenny Holloway said...

I'd love to talk to you. What is your contact info?

Sky said...

Oh, so scary. Sometimes I wish you weren't such a good writer, and then I didn't have to read detail that makes me see every song floating in to thin air. My computer crashed over Christmas. I hate that I'm so dependent on something that doesn't give a fat apple about me. But it felt like losing a familiar friend (I moan daily over the complicated world of VISTA that I've not entered with my new computer), though minutes before I almost sent it sailing over my daughter's balcony into her neighbor's muddy backyard. This computer age is a blessing. It connects us sooner than if we had to wait to meet again at the resurrection, and I'm thankful to keep my friends around me after they move on, but it's also an age teetering helplessly on a thin wire. I'm glad the bonds we have are strong and thick as hemp rope, which can survive any malicious vampire attack from outer space. Hang in there, Little Tomato.

E. Anona said...

I feel like a little tomato.

Chan said...

Julie, this may be my favorite post ever by you. The story all fits together so well, and it's so well expressed and sounds natural. However, I am very sorry about your music. I kept thinking, "can't she sue itunes or something? This is so unfair."

Julie M said...

Anona, it's okay. I feel like a tomato too. I think there are a lot worse things to feel like. Take a raisin for instance. Nobody likes a raisin. Parents give it to their kids in the form of cheap fruit snacks and then tell them to like it.

Why do you feel like a tomato? Care to share?

Sarachel said...

Once my cousin told me a story about a janitor named Raisin. He said that one day Raisin swept up some dried up junk, ate it, and called it raisin, after himself.

I stopped eating raisins after that.

Sarachel said...

PS I miss you, Anona.