The soundtrack to my life

I have a confession to make: I used to be a fan of Michael Bolton. In my defence, I was a teenager and Soul Provider was a classic soft-rock album. On the scale of crimes against good taste, I'm someone who delinquently nicked a few sweets from the corner shop, not a bank robber.

This guilty secret came back to me while I was waiting for a Sunday roast in the pub yesterday. Over the muzak dispenser came the unmistakeable strains (in more ways than one) of the classic "How am I Supposed to Live Without You". Somewhere in the back of my mind it stirred an anguish. You might think that as I leave a broken marriage I would naturally be moved by such a heart- (and ear-) rending song, but the lyrics are clearly about unrequited longing. That is much more a teenage experience and I know that at some point this particular song meant a great deal to me. But I couldn't recall at whom my particular unrequited longing was directed. It set me thinking – and service was so slow, I had plenty of time to think.

I’m not a great music lover. There are things I enjoy listening to but I don’t need a constant background sound. Nonetheless I realised during my lunchtime reverie that certain tunes are very meaningful to me. I can never hear “Thank You for the Music” without thinking back to a mundane childhood memory of sitting on the landing while Mum cleaned the bathroom; she must have had the radio on and it just stuck. My German exchange partner loved A-ha and “Take On Me” evokes homesickness in a crammed bedroom in the Ruhr. “It’ll Be Lonely This Christmas”, apart from being surely the most miserable festive song ever, always reminds me of a desperately awkward time in my life, when I wanted to be with someone who I knew didn’t want me. Many years have passed but I don’t think I will ever hear that song without a twinge of sadness.

“When You Say Nothing At All” takes me back to the funeral of my brother’s best friend, who died in a car accident before he’d really lived. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house when that was played – and not just because it was the Ronan Keating version. I’ve had the song on my iPod more recently; I must be mental. On a happier note, “Tubthumping” by Chumbawumba puts a smile on my face every time I hear it. The stadium DJ played it straight after Gillingham beat Wigan in the 2000 play-off final and it was an inspired choice. “I get knocked down but I get up again/You ain’t never gonna keep me down” caught perfectly the mood of the fans that day, a year after heartbreaking defeat to Manchester City. Elation, exhilaration, defiance – the occasion feels like yesterday.

While I was lost in memories in the pub, Mr Bolton faded away to be replaced by Jon Bon Jovi singing “Bed of Roses”. It was an incredible coincidence, because this is a song that’s very much in the present: it was being played by a covers band at the very moment when I realised my marriage was over. Doubly cruel is that it has long been one of my favourite songs, by one of my favourite bands.

Sarah and I got together partly because of a shared love of Bon Jovi - I lent her my Slippery When Wet album and accidentally got her attention. Any similarity between the long-term survival prospects of a cassette tape and our marriage is entirely coincidental. One of the last really good nights we had together was watching Jon and his crew at the O2, and so for "Bed of Roses" to wrap it up was probably fitting.

I am now in search of a song to reflect the next stage of my life. These lyrics seem apt:

Gonna break from these chains around me
Gonna learn to fly again
May be hard, may be hard
But I'll do it
When I'm back on my feet again
Soon these tears will all be dryin'
Soon these eyes will see the sun
Might take time, might take time
But I'll see it
When I'm back on my feet again

Dare I admit they are from a song by, er, Michael Bolton? 

I wonder why

First things first, I'd like to wish a Happy New Year to both my readers.

Today, like Curtis Stigers, I've been doing a lot of wondering why. Here are a few of the things I've been wondering...

Why people think the stairs at London Bridge station in rush hour are a suitable place for a friendly natter.
Why any man would consider even for a second that jeans with elasticated bottoms could be a fashion worth adopting.
Why Ruth Jones has gone blonde for her new TV series.
Why the Shard was built.
Why Essex is The Only Way and why no one has yet thought of another way.
Why the brunette who I used to see on the train every day is no longer there to brighten up my evenings.
Why my front door lock is working perfectly again now the weather is milder, after keeping me outside for five freezing minutes at the weekend.
Why trains on the northern branch of the Kent Coast line take 10 minutes longer on the journey out of London than the journey in; and apparently take longer than they did before the Second World War.
Why I wasted three minutes of my life trying to recognise the participants of "Celebrity" Big Brother last night.
Why mango smells like cat urine.

Answers on a postcard please, or failing that the comments section at the bottom.