If you hung out with Noah for more than five minutes before he lost his voice, and he trusted you, he would inevitably say, “Let’s Play Music Quiz!” and hand you his most prized possession after Bear, his iPod. The headphones would be tangled into a giant knot because he only ever listened with one earbud in so he didn’t miss anything. But we all knew to not give in to the temptation to take the earbuds and try and untangle them, he had no time for that nonsense and you would get the gentle hand-over-hand combined with a side-eye directive to remove yours from them immediately. It wasn’t about the tangles, it was about him guessing the song you dialed up. (see pic, because it truly was a dial up situation). If my boy asked you to play Music Quiz, you were in. He didn’t hand that thing over to just anyone…..
This was his favorite, favorite, favorite game of all time. He would sidle up to me, and then he’d lean on me, hanging out for a second or a minute. Then, Boom, the iPod was in my face. I’d look over, and there he’d be, staring at me with his sparkly blue eyes. “Let’s Play Music Quiz, MOM!” would come out of his freckled face. How could anyone resist? I’d put down what I was doing, and we’d play until he got tired of showing off his expertise, take his iPod back and run off. He took great pride, I think, in being right all the time. 500+ songs. He knew each one well enough to sing them, every word, and he enjoyed them so much he knew who they belonged to and what they were called. We played it all the time, and if you were “in”, he’d play it with you.
So the game was played like this. You hid the tiny screen from him, dialed up a random song from his 500+ song library, and hit play. He had to guess the song. Simple, right? Here’s where it starts to get a little Universally Throat Punchy. He never. got. it. wrong. Never. It didn’t matter what song you picked, he got it right. And, he got it right within the first 7 seconds. How do I know that? Because, being the data whore I am, I kept track. Also, he never gave just the song title. He gave the song, the artist, and about 95% of the time, the album. The other 5%? Standalone songs.
Why is this Universally Throat Punchy? First, remember, this is the boy who would never walk, talk, read, write, sing, dance, or any of the other things THAT HE DID DO, thankyouverymuch. He was slapped with labels, preconceived notions, and lowered expectations practically from birth. Not only did he know those songs, he could sing them, he could manipulate the device needed to find them, he could read the information on a squinchy little screen, and he could do all of this independently. Take that, Others. Take that. Second, I have his songs in my iTunes now. Whenever I’m feeling some kind of way, I will say “Noah, give me a playlist”, and I will hit shuffle on his songs. Every single time, the playlist (of 500+ songs to shuffle) will spit out exactly what I need for that moment. If I’m feeling down and shame-spiraly, I get songs like “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey, and “What Makes You Beautiful” by One Direction. If I’m missing him especially, I get all of “our” songs like “Home” by Phillip Phillips, Kenny Chesney’s “Anything But Mine”, “Sweet Child Of Mine” by Guns N Roses. If I’m needing to laugh, I’ll get any Christmas song in the playlist because ew. Christmas songs. Grinch GIF. If I’m needing to kick some ass and get motivated, I get songs like “the Greatest Show” from the movie soundtrack and “Man! I Feel Like A Woman” by Shania Twain. And, ever if I’m doubting that there are things the Universe knows and does for me, and that he might be here watching and laughing, I’ll get “Been Here All Along” by Hannah Montana. Every time. I never say my mood out loud, by the way. Somehow, the Universe knows and gets it right. Even if I don’t know what it is.
“Let’s Play Music Quiz” has had to evolve into “Noah, give me a playlist”. It’s gone from being a symbol of all the things he checked off of the “Noah Won’t Do” or “Noah Can’t Do Because” lists the Others created, to a symbol, for me, that the Universe, guided by the sweet hand of my Orange-Haired Teen spinning the wheel, will Throat Punch me if I need a reminder to stay true to my authentic self.
