Reply #63: Wow...(Don't Fear) The Reaper...

[regnaD kciN]

This is going to get a bit confessional.

When I was in college, I didn't have a radio. I listened to lots of records, but they were primarily self-selected. (This isolation had its advantages: I didn't even know who Barry Manilow was until 1977!)

During most of my first two years there, I was in a ill-matched relationship that was pretty destructive to both of us (each stubborn enough to "stick it out" even when it was clear it wasn't working). It was also celibate in the "everything but..." sense. It finally came totally apart at the beginning of my junior year, in fall of '76.

Then I met someone new. We got involved very quickly. The relationship was the exact reverse of my previous one: it was not fraught with emotional weight, it was not destructive, and it was most decidedly not celibate, from the first night on.

This girl, unlike myself, had a radio. As we spent many, many hours in her room, I heard the current popular favorites for one of the only times during my years at college. And the one song they played the most, during that time, was "(Don't Fear) The Reaper." It took several playings, during which I was really only aware of the tune and the instrumentation, to start listening to the lyrics. Later, it struck me as really, really odd that the "soundtrack" for our hours together in that bedroom, delighting in the pleasures we could give to each other, was highlighted by a song with a beautiful, haunting melody...and lyrics in favor of suicide.

The relationship ended (for various reasons too lengthy to go into here) far sooner than it should have, but at least it came to an end before either of us could be left with sour feelings about the other. And, every time I hear "(Don't Fear) The Reaper," all I can think about is that girl and the happiness we brought to each other in that autumn.

Weird, huh?