I am sure you have heard by now.  If not, here is this NY Times article describing the breakup of R.E.M. yesterday.  I am really mourning it.

I guess we all have one band who you can chronicle throughout your life.  R.E.M. is that band for me.  That is the beauty about art; when you are alone and listening to a song in your car after a breakup or fight or whatever, it is like they wrote it just for you.  If it is any good at all it is personal.

When I hear this song, I can totally picture myself in my blue Honda Prelude just sitting in my driveway after after a night of working at the shoe store in the mall.  Life was hard for me when I was sixteen.  My parents hadn’t been divorced for long and I felt like I was navigating the waters solo.  I didn’t feel so alone when I played this song:

And even in college, where I fared much better than high school, of course life still was hard.  On the outside I was a blond sorority girl.  I was on the dance team, Panhellenic board and even the homecoming pageant, but inside I wasn’t any of those things.  I was figuring out who I was (weren’t we all), and besides my best friend, Jennifer, I was closest to John Donne and Michael Stipe.

It is weird being an introverted/ extrovert.  My friendships do struggle because of it.  The few girlfriends I have we are strong and loyal and we know who the other is and accept.  It takes a lot of grace and patience to be friends with somebody different like me.  I get that.  When I opt out of a dinner to stay at home to read or write they get it.  They know that I love them and I’m not being a bad friend–they realize that it is something that chose me and I can’t help it.

My dad was one of ten siblings all born and reared in Athens, Georgia.  So not only do I connect with their music and Stipes non-lyrics so much, but R.E.M. is from Athens, and Athens is in my blood.  I grew up spending every other weekend in Athens, and later my sister and I both lived there post college (not with each other, but we were a mile away).

The band’s imprint is everywhere there, from Weaver D’s Automatic for the People  to Stipe’s home shielded by rows of bamboo to the businesses they own (including Buck’s 40 Watt).  I frequented all of them.

I would sit near Stipe while eating a sandwich for lunch (that’s nothing special–everyone has a Stipe-spotting story).  I sat next to Mike Mills while having a glass of wine when I moved back to Atlanta (again, he could care less that I was next to him).  I even got to spend some time at Bill Berry’s Watkinsville home.  (A dream day I tell ya.  It is just a small world in Athens.  My brother-in-law’s kayaking buddy was a stagehand for the band.  I just tagged along one day.  Sidenote:  I wish I could do a post on Berry’s home.  Story is he bought it for $1 from the city of Athens.  It was an historic home that was going to be demolished.  He transferred the ENTIRE home to Watkinsville, a town south of Athens that is quieter and less dense.  It is old and white and full of his treasures from his travels.  I was speechless.

This last song is so special to me because this reminds me of my 27th birthday.  I won the ticket lottery and drew #1 at Publix.  I purchased 3 front row center seats for their show at Chastain Park in Atlanta.  It was a hot summer night for the outside show, and not only was I treated to a show about twelve inches from Stipe, he stuck the mike down to me for half of the song below so I could sing with him.  Dream birthday.

I know there are times in life when you begin to look back as much as you look forward.  This is one of those times.

I will always be able to trace this Georgia girl’s life with each of their tracks, and I thank you R.E.M.  You will always be my favorite band.