Sometimes it’s good to do something just for the hell of it.
No reason, you just feel like doing it. A little impulsive, but as long as no one gets blown up or incarcerated, where’s the harm?
It was last Saturday morning, around noon.
I was on the computer, waking up and blowing off steam, looking up the results of some people’s insane thoughts and lives committed to Tumblr. I started hearing music.
Not the bass bombardment you might expect.
No. This was different.
After a couple of songs I didn’t really recognize ended, an old Motown song from the ’60s started to play; the kind that would be a staple of your families’ car radio, depending on if you had parents old enough for the JFK era.
I got curious. Why was this playing?
To my exceptionally sleepy brain and its owner, this didn’t seem like a minor question, but a great mystery out to be uncovered, a quest to be fulfilled.
So, armed with only a phone in my pants pocket and the CMU shirt I had worn at work the night before, I suddenly found myself outside of my house looking for the music’s source.
I couldn’t really tell you why I did this.
Boredom? A whim? Sleepy, silly brain dead decision making? Probably all three.
The thing about it was that it could not have been a more beautiful day. It was warm, but with a gentle breeze. People ranging from toddlers to AARP members were running about.
The song seemed to be coming from every direction, so I just danced toward Mission Street. Had the part of my brain that processed social rules been functioning that morning, I probably wouldn’t have been dancing.
Buoyed by this spark of adventure, I thoroughly boogied my way toward the main road, grateful that there was actual music playing so I didn’t look like a complete idiot.
But where was this music coming from, and why was it playing now?
My answer became increasingly clear as I got to Mission Street.
It was for a CMU football game. I don’t know what I expected. Some spontaneous concert in the middle of Mission? Random people blasting songs?
As I looked around, I noticed that everyone going toward the game had the same CMU yellow and maroon colors on. I rarely wore this shirt, as I just needed something for my 3-11 p.m. shift the night before.
I was just one of the crowd, though possibly with more dancing and duck stepping. One guy in a crowd yelled, “Yeah! Fire up Chips, man!”
“Wooo!” was my half-hearted response as I waddled toward home, because I had work later and it’s not like I had actually brought my wallet with me anyway.
My adventure had a more standard reason ending than I would have liked, but I enjoyed it.
It was fun, it was spontaneous, it was different. Something different from the regular morning routine of waking up and vegging out.
And all because of a little light music.