Tadaima

--"Tadaima (I'm Home)", Do As Infinity

This Sunday I leave for San Francisco. As with every extended trip take, meaning any trip lasting more than a weekend, I'm going to purchase a new set of socks. Why? Because I do that every trip. You could say it's my routine. It's my ritual. No practical reason exists for this habit. Indeed, the first time I did it was because I was simply too lazy to do a load of laundry before going to bed so I, instead, opted to pick up a new set of socks before being driven to the airport.

That was some thirteen years ago.

I've been doing it ever since.

I don't know what would happen if I were to ever stop. No, I don't think any great cataclysm would befall me. I don't think the moon would crash into New York City because of my action (or inaction). I honestly just can't imagine staying out a week anywhere without a new package of socks. One goes with the other without any sort of hesitation in my brain. For me, buying socks is just another condition that needs to be checked off before I go anywhere, like packing clothes, Ipod, phone charger, and camera are. I don't make the conscious effort to purchase socks; it simply wouldn't be a trip without a new pair of socks. Something in my psyche wouldn't even let me get out of the gate without that being done first.

I suspect it's akin to a lot of other aspects of my life. I performed the ritual once and it kind of stuck for no other reason that I did it the first time and I automatically remembered to do it the second time, the third time, &c... It kind of reminds me of how I started like Do As Infinity as a group. My cousin introduced them to me and, at first, I saw no redeeming quality in them. They don't sing in English. A lot of their melodies are far too poppy to fit in amidst the rest of my music library. And I didn't quite get the rhythms employed in a lot of their songs. It was a strange and foreign experience for me. I was sure I wouldn't like them in the least. But then a funny thing happened along the way. My cousin burned me a copy of his favorite DAI tracks and I started to listen to it, track by track, on my way to work. I still didn't like the whole CD, but slowly certain tracks started jumping out at me. Foremost among these insidious tracks was "Tadaima". Eventually, it became the track I would play at least once while I was in the car, either as I was first getting into the vehicle or right before I left my car for the last time that day.

To this day I can't even describe the full extent of what the song describing. I just know it's a sentimental song about someone arriving back home after a long period away from those that he loves and the place he calls home. That's about it. The words, the sentiments, the phrasing--it's all foreign to me. I pretty much decided one day I thought the singing and melody were purrdy, and that's all I cared to know. Everything else is secondary to that visceral effect it has on me, to the way it makes my heart stir every time I hurt it. Yes, I suppose I could ascertain the unique qualities that make it such a worthwhile song to me. I could quantify in uncertain terms the various reasons why it affects me the way I do. However, that would be like trying to dissect the notion of love itself. There really isn't an explanation as to why we bond with anything. It happens outside of reason. I could no more tell you why I love "Tadaima" as tell why I love BBQ. It basically boils down to "it's good."

People are kind of a different story. There are definite reasons why I love Lucy (LOL) and reasons why she loves me. Those you can quantify after a period spent in the company of one another. Yet even with people there's always that initial sense of liking someone right away for no apparent reason other than they're likable, there's always that spark of attraction that bursts into being the moment the two of you come into close proximity of one another--like static electricity. That's always going to be a supernatural phenomena.

Just like liking music. You know within the first minutes of a song whether or not its going to be something you'd listen to again.

I didn't think I'd like "Tadaima" as much as I do now when I first heard it... but some part of me always knew I would listen to it at least one more time.

It too became a habit--in this case, it became "the" song I needed to play at least once during the day.

Maybe that's just the type of personality I am. I've noticed I do that with a lot with people. I have no particular reason to like someone, but on certain occasions someone will present me with something that strikes my fancy. I'll latch onto that quality, that anecdote, that remarkable talent, little by little until it becomes a small part of my daily consciousness. I believe that's why with certain individuals I bestow them with nicknames because something they said makes me want to try remembering them for whatever reason. I'll instantly grant them a nickname in an effort to not lose focus as to what attracted me to them in that instant. It's like my bookmark on their soul. It gives me a place to come back to when I next see them.

Jennifer used to tell me that there are two kinds of people in this world, those who make themselves welcome for other people and those who make other people more welcoming for them. I believe I fall into the second category. I'm not the easiest person to get along with at times, but I do possess the quality of being able to get along with others rather easily. More simply, I have a lot of bad habits that are off-putting to some, but I really haven't met a bad quality that I couldn't get past if I really wanted to. Yes, I get annoyed easily. Yes, I'm quick to flare into a temper. Yes, I lose interest in certain topics of conversation. Yet those are all quirks of my nature that other people have trouble getting past. In others, if I for some reason hit it off with them, I tend to move past a lot of foibles that would bother me in people who I decided not to like.

I'm not the type to spend a lot of time going over the ins and outs of a person... or a song... or a tradition.

Once I like something I make it my home and deal with the eventual problems later on. It's pretty cut and dry with me on an instinctual level whether or not I take a shining to an object.

Once I like something or someone, I pretty much set down roots and say, "I'm home."

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers