As I sit here saving appointments into Yahoo! Calendar to remind me when The West Wing is going to air tonight, Thomas Newman’s theme from American Beauty starts to play. Three minutes, six seconds of memory for me.

When I lived in Jacksonville, this was one of the many MP3’s I listened to on a frequent basis. As time wore on, I became very unhappy there and would often listen to Thomas Newman soundtracks. At home, I would play this track over and over again. Typing now, at the same desk with the same computer, only my surroundings are different. I look to the left and see my Dilbert wall calendar in lieu of the cat candle and window I used to gaze out, a cool breeze lapping at my arm. Forward and to my right, the homely surroundings of my possessions fill my space rather than the living quarters of other people.

I would drive around town listening to Newman’s The Shawshank Redemption score, a personal favourite. Sometimes getting to track seven (“Brooks Was Here”), I would almost instinctively press repeat. Over and over again, that emotion provoking track would fill my car.

Listening now, I can see why I made that jump back and forth. Track eight (“American Beauty”) is very similar to Shawshank’s seven, evoking the same emotional response from me.

It almost makes me want to drive up to Jacksonville tonight, see the shipyards and have a Newcastle along the river at my special spot where the only thing between you and the glimmering lights and buildings of downtown is the shimmering waters of the Saint Johns.

Of all the memories triggered by tastes, sounds and smells, I have to say the recollections and feelings that come forth as I listen to this track repeatedly are some of the strongest. At the same time, I have become such a different person since then that it is almost like looking at a fun house mirror. A vast wasteland of dreams and possibilities that never came true. But instead, I have this. And those memories help guide me every day.

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