Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.
I didn't grow up in the suburbs; in fact, most of the places I lived as a child hadn't heard of suburbs. As a teenager, I aspired to be there for what I believed would be a better life. As an adult, I feared they might destroy any sense of individuality I ever had. Both were correct.
I've been thinking about the suburbs a lot today, mainly because I have been listening to
Arcade Fire's new CD,
The Suburbs, nonstop. (Recommended! Two thumbs up.) When I first moved to the suburbs later in life, I described it as
very white. Yes, at first it was 99.99% white
people, but not so much by the time my ten years were up. Actually what I meant it was white as in bland, soulless, without uniqueness, a facade, clone-ish, conformist. I carried that belief with me daily like a big fat chip on my shoulder and, thus, I never fit in and didn't last very long.
And the people in the houses
All went to the university,
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same,
And there's doctors and lawyers,
And business executives,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.
And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry,
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school,
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university,
Where they are put in boxes
And they come out all the same. (see *Notes below for credits)
I suppose there is a certain safeness that comes with the security of sameness. One can still experience the world through travel, just not daily. The security that comes with lack of change is not something I have ever experienced. I'm not saying it is bad or wrong; I'm saying it was everything
I had feared it would be.
The lyrics of Arcade Fire's single, The Suburbs, suggest the writer has come to terms with early life growing up in the suburbs. I bring personal baggage to the lyrics so read my own experience into the song.
You always seemed so sure
That one day we'd fight
In a suburban world
your part of town gets minor
So you're standin' on the opposite shore
But by the time the first bombs fell
We were already bored
We were already, already bored
Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling
Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling again
If I could have it back
All the time that we wasted
I'd only waste it again
If I could have it back
You know I'd love to waste it again
Waste it again and again and again
~ Arcade Fire
*Notes: words and music by Malvina Reynolds; copyright 1962 Schroder Music Company, renewed 1990. Malvina and her husband were on their way from where they lived in Berkeley, through San Francisco and down the peninsula to La Honda where she was to sing at a meeting of the Friends’ Committee on Legislation (not the PTA, as Pete Seeger says in the documentary about Malvina, “Love It Like a Fool”). As she drove through Daly City, she said “Bud, take the wheel. I feel a song coming on.”
This is now the opening song for Showtime's
Weeds, season premier Monday night.