Kind of Blue

My sophomore year of college was when I discovered Kind of Blue. I had a single dorm room at my favorite Midwestern Big Ten university, and I had a record player. I can't remember what exactly moved me to buy the album. I do remember consciously wanting to learn more about jazz, and in that time period I bought records by Coltrane and Monk as well, but none have the place in my heart that Kind of Blue does.

It's funny about music and memory. Whenever I listen to this record I always recall that dorm room. I was on the 12th floor, the top. I was in and out of a mild depression most of the year, and often skipped class and stayed up late. I used to go skate the AT&T building across the street late at night by myself. I don't remember if it was spring or fall, but it was cool out. After an hour or so of ollies and manuals on the sidewalk, I'd skate back home.

At that time I had a bottle of Kahlua that neighbors had given to my parents after a trip to Mexico. My parents don't really drink and I adopted it. I gave it a good and loving home. After skating, I'd come home and put on Kind of Blue, and make a White Russian, minus the vodka. Lit by candlelight. It was my time to think about the future, the past, girls, the world, art, mixtapes, friends, and everything. It was a romantic time in my life, when the future still held infinite possibilities, be it the next day or 20 years on. I didn't know then, but I know now. Those moments are fleeting. I really fell in love with that record.