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Love of the Unknown Life

By , Spring Valley, CA
There's a story I've been wanting to tell for a while now. A little girl of about six years of age is running through a shopping mall, hat pulled over her eyes in an attempt to prove that she doesn't need them. Her legs propel her faster and faster through the crowd, narrowly avoiding angered consumers and bushes used as decoration dead center in the path. She detects a slight darkening of her closed vision and thinks that she's under a veranda, her designated safe point. Before she could attempt to decrease her speed, her legs were suddenly ripped out from under her and she tumbled head first into many prying thorns.

She pulls herself up and removes her hat, glancing at her fingers where there seems to be a source of pain. Two long splinters have lodged themselves underneath the red and angry skin. The girl suddenly gives a high, keen wail as the full realization of what happened hits her with crushing force. Her mother runs up next to her and carries her to the car, buckling her seat belt and whispering words of comfort. The crying doesn't cease and the mother does the only thing she can think of. She takes a CD from the dash board, puts it in the player, and starts it. Immediately, her daughter's cries transform to sniffles before winking out of existence completely. For the rest of the way home, there was no sound but the calming music of their favorite band.

Ever since I was a child, music has been one of the things that has kept me sane. I didn't grow up on Usher or Eminem or the genres they perform. However, I do respect their talent as musicians and give them credit for gaining their popularity as quickly as they did. But all my life, the music that I have listened to dates back to the 1960s. My parents raised me on some of the biggest bands of all time: Pink Floyd, Foreigner, Boston, Blue Oyster Cult, the Who, Nirvana. The list goes on and on, its trail starting at my ears and making its way through my body to the one place that will store it forever: my heart.

Despite the many artists I have come to know and love, one stands out from all the rest and flips a switch inside of me that unlocks my soul. One band has stayed with me ever since I was old enough to know what music is. Some of my earliest memories are of listening to their music in the car on my way to school. Back when CD players were still in use, I remember that if mine was out of batteries and I couldn't play the cherished albums, the rest of the day was going to be bad. Through good times and through bad, these wonderful musicians has been there for every single impressionable event in my life.

This article isn't a rant about the current music industry or the songs that are popular right now. No, this article is a thank-you to the people that I don't even know, yet they're still apart of my family. This is a thank-you to the one band that will forever hold a special place and influence in my life. This is a thank-you to Green Day.

You see, it wasn't Rock A Bye Baby that was sung to me when the tear drops in my eyes spilled over and dripped their way down my cheeks. It wasn't Twinkle Twinkle Little Star that lulled me to me sleep on those dreary nights that followed a stressful day. Fact is, I didn't even know the words to those common songs until I hit grammar school and even that is pushing it. The songs that played through my parent's voices and the speakers of our sound system were off of all of Green Day's albums. From 1039 Smoothed Out Slappy Hours to American Idiot, I didn't have a favorite. Every verse mesmerized me to the point of pure happiness. To this day, if I hear one of their songs on the radio, a big smile spreads across my face as I turn up the volume and think, 'this is the band that helped build the person I am today.'

They've been there for me every step of the way, every block I had to place in the construction zone of my life. Their music got me through my first year of middle school, the year I like to consider the worst I've experience so far. Whenever I'm feeling blue or like I want to explode with anger, I think back to the little girl who had fallen in the thorn bush and only calmed down because of music. The child was me and the favorite band was Green Day.

People say that home is where the heart is. I find myself slightly disagreeing with that partly true, yet misleading statement. Home can be where the heart is, but when your heart belongs to someone else, it does no good. For as long as I live, Green Day will be the one band I will forever pay respects to. After all, I do owe them a great deal of my childhood.

Once again, I really appreciate them for everything they have done and continue to do for me. I hope that somehow they'll know just how much of an impact they've made on my life.

Thank you, Green Day. Always and forever.

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