Howdy kakabsat!
This week we’re trying something new—a thing which will likely bring my future self heavy doses of revulsion, self-contempt, and absolute mortification for what I’m predicting shall be a collection of clumsy writing and overly long introductory sentences. At the same time, it may also become a thing that will evoke feelings of nostalgia, reflections upon growth, and an overall sense of “wow, time flies,” which will, in the end, trump whatever self-critical feelings I may soon harbor toward it anyway.
Welcome, my digital kabsats and insans, to Cousin’s Kwento Corner! A space where I’ll blither and blather about songs, memories, and new experiences.
As this is part of a Herculean effort to return to regular writing, I plan to share more of my personal tales from the other side of whatever device you may be reading this on. Additionally, I will also confess that I am terribly rusty. Apart from a weekly joke on a platform limited to 280-characters or less per post, I haven’t written much in the past two years. I predict it will be as challenging as restarting an exercise regimen after being in a coma for a while. Yes, it will be disjointed. Yes, it will hurt. And yes, it will make one question why I even try in the first place. But with time and patience, perhaps I will stumble into something worthwhile and positive and not-so-terrible-after-all.
Let us hope together.
Also, because I am overly optimistic and tend to overestimate my ability to meet deadlines, I have a deeply misplaced sense of hope that I shall find the strength to write and update this corner weekly. (or bi-weekly? Maybe getting paid will inspire me to write—or perhaps the clamminess of being broke while waiting for the next paycheck will?)
Let us hope together.
The plan is to feature a song every week (or every two weeks, my brain is undecided) from a pool of submissions, recommendations, or personal discoveries and share an interesting anecdote or memory associated with it. If warranted, I may also add small details about what I feel makes the these tracks tick.
“But Cousin, why songs?” asked the three people reading this. You see, I have the attention span of a fidgety Cocker Spaniel, and I feel songs are easier to digest and write about than an hour-and-a-half-long movie or a week-long book. Also, as some of you may know, I am quite a music nerd AKA bore. I play the bass guitar, which most people say is the least exciting instrument in a rock band setting and a point which I have surrendered arguing with. Unless you’re into music, it’s hard to see the bass guitar as anything more than a dongdongdong version of the guitar. But if your ears are open, you’ll see how this instrument bridges the gap between rhythm and melody, sets what one grooves to, and in the words of the mighty Sting: dictates what chord is played.
End of self-righteous, off-topic, bass speech.
The song breakdown will feature these main parts:
- What do I like about it?
- What mountain memories does it conjure?
- Who should you recommend it to?
- Which lyrics deserve a second read-through?
Again, like most things, this may change as we go along weekly. (or every two weeks, my brain is still undecided.)
This Week’s Song:
Against the Wind by Bob Seger (1980)
One of my favorite comedians, the late Norm MacDonald, said, “A recent study found that 86% of women found men with beards attractive… More great work from the University of Bob Seger.”
What do I like about it?
I recently came upon this song again while organizing my “uncle vibes” playlist, AKA the playlist one doesn’t actually listen to regularly anymore but is loaded with tracks that come standard to the highland childhood. (Other songs in the playlist include The Eagles’ Desperado, CCR’s Have You Ever Seen The Rain, and Billy Ray Cyrus’ cover of Shot Full of Love. Remind you of your own uncle playlist already?)
“So Cousin, what’s so special about this song then?” asked the two people reading this. (I lost one to boredom a few paragraphs back.) Excellent question, dear imaginary audience, and let me tell you why.
Many moons ago, I had an older cousin from the provinces up north who came to live with us in Baguio while he went to school and worked part-time. He was very fond of this song, a fact which is true to this day. He loved it so much that it’s become an inside joke with the family that if you play this song loud enough, he may just show up to listen regardless of your location on the planet.
Years on, when it came my time to also move away from home, I recall giving this song a listen on nights when I longed for a sense of familiarity and nostalgia, in a faraway place that initially felt had neither.
It’s the lyrics that, I believe, give this song its enduring power and spirit. The singer’s melancholic reminiscing of a distant, vibrant past contrasted against a present now muddied by a dull cynicism and disillusionment—and his steadfast, if choice-less, declaration that he’s still running against the wind—is what does it for me. It strikes such a chord within—and seems to do so more forcefully as I find myself adding years to my own age as well.
What mountain memories does it conjure?
My first regular “bar” band experience was owed to two older uncles who, looking back, must have had the patience of saints and the desperation of sinners for even considering 18-year-old me to play bass for them. I was not by any measures extraordinary, but they took me under their wings and taught me the ways of the tukar. Apart from the magic of playing live, perhaps my fondest memories came from those moments in the middle of songs where one senses the same lyrics stirring emotions differently for each of us, given the wide range of our ages.
Against the Wind was one of our regular piyesas, and back then, I may have related more to its first verses, brooding upon my own recent teenage breakup. Conversely, my uncle band-mates may have associated more strongly with its other verses—which now, at my present age, yank at my heart’s wistful strings with a force unknown in my younger years.
It’s funny how listening to the track’s lyrics about a vibrant past now makes me reflect on an era in my life that includes playing the song itself.
A bit meta, if you will.
Who should you recommend it to?
This may be a nice track to recommend:
- To your Uncle, who recently moved to Dubai and is living alone.
- To a childhood friend with who you share the feeling of ‘uh-oh, we’re uncles/aunties now.’
- To an actual Auntie who pushes on despite feeling like the last few years have not been as kind as they could have.
Which lyrics deserve a second read-through?
“The years rolled slowly past
And I found myself alone
Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends
I found myself further and further from my home, and I guess I lost my way
There were oh-so-many roads
I was living to run and running to live
Never worried about paying or even how much I owed
Moving eight miles a minute for months at a time
Breaking all of the rules that would bend
I began to find myself searching
Searching for shelter again and again”
I feel you Uncle Bob. I feel you.
– Cousin
And so…
There you have it, the first Cousin’s Kanta Corner entry in all its lengthy-glory. Thankfully, the next ones won’t need the introductory explanations, so they should be shorter than the full-length novel above.
And before I bid adieu, allow me to share this last section, which we’ll keep as a standing item for all other announcements Cousin-related.
Announcements and Matters of Cousin Interest:
– I’m currently 20 pages through my first book for the year. (Like writing, I’ve also taken a break from it, so hopefully, it continues… kuma.)
– I may be doing a QA on Instagram soon to get recommendations for future CKC songs.
That’s all for now. See you next week! (Or in two weeks, my brain is STILL undecided.)
Be well kakabsat. Apir!