Jimmy John's and Bad Radio

I've recently graduated to 45 minute lunch breaks, up from 30. That extra 15 minutes makes a world of difference to a job hating goon like me. I work at a ridiculously busy Interstate exit (no, not selling oranges) and the traffic makes it really difficult to get done what I need to do in 30 minutes. Now I can go to my favorite hang out, Jimmy John's, read a book and listen to some very pedestrian classic rock.

Jimmy John's doesn't have the best food in the world. They are very hit and miss. Great bread, sub-par meat. Great chips, so crunchy your jaw aches after eating a bag. Watered down soft drinks, free refills. But the atmosphere is what I enjoy. It's a restaurant that doesn't take itself too seriously and they are kind enough to let me eat my food and enjoy some privacy till it's time to go back to work. Plus they know me. I'm the Norm of the Southport Jimmy John's location.

I've been reading Love is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield. It's an autobiographical story about how his late wife and he lived for mix tapes and how their romance revolved around music. It's a very beautiful story so far and it is ironic how much a lot of it mirrors moments I've lived in my teens and twenties. Much like Rob, I was one of those dorky music geeks who gave my love interests mix tapes that not only showed off my incredible musical tastes but also helped me communicate my feelings through the words of other people. Thank God for middlemen! Sometimes it helped my situation, other times it drove them away like I carried the clap. Nonetheless, I made some damned good tapes. If only I had those back.

Back to Jimmy John's, they play a local station that used to be known as Jack FM. It was a station that had a computerized format and no DJ's. That format has changed and now they do have DJ's but they are so robotic that they practically don't exist. One of the DJ's is Nikki. She used to work for X103 when I worked there. She's got the personality of a wounded marsupial, a really wretched woman. So it's good that she is on this station now because they don't let her talk a lot. We are all better for it. Anyway, this station, one of FOUR classic rock stations in Indianapolis, plays a very curious mix of music. You get your midwest standards: Bob Seger, John Mellencamp. Then you get the overplayed bands: Pink Floyd, Lynyrd Skynyrd. You can't escape these artists in Indy. On top of that, they also play a lot of one hit 70's wonders like Orleans, 10cc and Rupert Holmes. It's music that's easy to ignore and serves as decent background.

Today as I read my book, I began to realize that every song that was being played on the former Jack had some sort of significance to me, no matter how minute. For instance, they played Freeze Frame by J Geils Band. I remembered how much I loved the music video for this song as it began with the band all wearing white and standing in a white canvassed room. They began to fight with colored paints. During the musical breakdown, gallons of paint were poured over their heads. It's amazing how funny that is to a young kid. I used to howl at that video when I was in grade school much like I did watching You Can't Do That On Television. Then they played Night Moves by Bob Seger. This song used to give me the opposite reaction because it was the favorite song of my ex-fiancee. This decent song about a young couple's coming of age used to provoke venom, spit, tears and depression out of me. It was THE song that I did not want to hear (and that's saying something because there are several albums of Dave Matthews material out there). As I heard it today, I actually found myself bouncing my leg to it, smirking, not believing I let such a woman get to me in that manor. As much as I don't care for Bob Seger, I think I actually like that song again. You can't blame the song, especially if it's a good one.

Reading this book and hanging out at Jimmy John's, if anything, makes me realize how much I love music and how badly I wish the quality of music these days would turn a corner and become listenable again. It saddens me that there was such a bountiful harvest of music in the 90's, some brilliant artists and original talents that were making timeless songs...where did they all go? When did music turn so sour? I could go into corporate music politics, the rampant selling out that artists seemingly feel like they have to do to get their music heard today, the fact that the music industry is in the toilet and they are only marketing singles and not albums, digitizing music has ruined the feel of the album...I could go on and on. I just want to feel joy in making mix tapes again. I find that if I make one, it's all music from the 60's, 70's and 90's with the occasional new song. The best music I haven't heard I'm digging up from decades past, not from today's lot of new artists. It's sorry.

Nevertheless, tomorrow I will likely hit Jimmy John's for some lackluster lunch. Maybe I will hear some Bad Company or Kansas or Journey. And I will probably enjoy it because music and food is so much better when you are off the clock. If anything, I am truly enjoying this book. I miss so much about my youth, and I don't miss much at all. But most of all, I do miss the thrill and emotion of good music. It would be nice to experience those feelings again.