Name: Matt A
Message: Hey Rewind,
I am now in the process of packing up my life to move to a new city. I'm really excited for this new adventure, but obviously sad to leave my friends I have made over the past two years here in LA. Do you have any music that will make my 20 hour drive from LA to Austin, TX more like a movie soundtrack? I want to roll down the windows and feel like I'm riding out during the end credits. Thanks! -Matt
Hey Matt,
Theresa here! I'm excited for you too! I'm hoping to make a similar move in the next few years, and I'm psyched just thinking about it. What an adventure! A new city full of new people and places to explore. Amazing. So can I live vicariously through you until then?! I haven't made any big moves yet, just small ones. But you know who HAS made big moves, like the one you're about to make? My bffaeaeaeae, Dylan! (yes, my best friend forever and ever and ever and ever and ever). Dyl, or Dyl Pickles (I call him this in my head, bet he hates it) has made the move from Ohio to Poughkeepsie to Ohio to Boston and he's a pro, at this point. So I'm actually going to hand this one over to him! I promise, you will not be disappointed. And good luck on your new adventure!
Hey "Matt" (yeah, like that's your real name),
I’ve moved the same futon five times in my life. I had it in high school, while living in college, when I moved back home and when I moved to Boston. It was your typical futon; constructed of half wood and half metal, broken in the middle, topped with a blue shaded and uncomfortable mound of fabric and stuffing, full of smells, full of stains and felt 100% like home to me.
In high school this futon was my first bed that wasn’t a bunk bed that I shared with my brother. It was mine, for my own room. I kept it mostly ‘couch’ style to give my room the sophisticated look of what I imagined a college dorm room looked like. It sat against the wall in my bedroom with a milk carton coffee table in front of it. I would sit on that futon and waste hours watching Garden State and playing Yoshi’s Island on SNES.
I had many boners on that futon, kissed some ladies on it too. If I am being perfectly honest, I made several attempts at "sexual intercoursing" on it as well. We were bonded. It felt like an extension of my personality so when it came time to move to New York for college I brought it with me. The function of the futon stayed the same throughout college. It filled my room and I filled it with more farts and stains and wasted hours, and yes, more boners.
When I was packing up to move back home to Ohio after college I debated leaving the futon in New York, maybe give it an epic Viking burial. Maybe invite friends over to help me cast it out to sea and watch as it sunk to the bottom of the Hudson River. Ultimately, though I wasn’t done with the futon yet, or perhaps it wasn’t done with me (dramatic music cue!) The futon and I then spent nine glorious months in my parent’s basement before we saved up enough money to move out to Boston.
My friends Josh and Danny helped me load the futon into the back of a UHAUL truck and I drove it the 10 hours to Massachusetts. By the time the futon was situated into our the apartment the futon and I could sense that our time was coming to a close. I had moved in with my ex-girlfriend/current wife and the plans she and I had for our future didn’t involve my old and rackety fart-filled cloth bag futon friend. It was time to move on. I’m not going to lie, I was bummed to see it go. We called a junk removal service who lovelessly threw it into the back of a dumpster and drove away with all my memories and probably about a pound and a half of dust mites.
Matt, I just wrote five paragraphs about a fucking bed that I got 12 years ago. I have a problem with collecting memories and things and getting too attached to them.
Moving on is difficult, and moving away is hard but it’s one of the healthiest things we can do. New places are great, new experiences are wonderful and it’s probably not the best idea to bring your mental and emotional futons with you to every new place you go, I know that now. That’s a metaphor or something, right? What you’re doing is so badass and you deserve to feel badass. Plug in your aux cable, open up Spotify, roll down your windows and be proud that you’re brave enough to move away from your past futons. -Dylan Wise
REWIND to this
The Streets, "Lock the Locks": My love for Mike Skinner and The Streets is well documented on this site. If you're unfamiliar, I highly suggest you give them a listen. The Streets ended their career as a group a couple years back with the album Computers and Blues. It's hands-down their best work; a complete culmination of their career and a perfect ending to the story of the group. The final track, "Lock the Locks", Mike Skinner closes the Streets chapter of his life in one beautiful 3-minute song about packing it all up and moving on. Again, it is just perfection.