The Ballad That Still Breaks Me

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“Every night in my dreams, I see you, I feel you . . . .” 

I’m sorry!  I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.  I know that probably caused you pain.  It hurt me, too.  But I have to address it.  This blog is all things 90s, and that means we cover the good and the bad, the delightful and the annoying.

As you all know, because it is actually impossible to have lived through the 90s and not know, those are the opening lyrics to Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On,” the theme song from the movie “Titanic.”    

There was such a build-up to this movie.  It starred Kate Winslet and teen heartthrob Leonardo DiCaprio.  At the time, it was one of the most expensive movies ever.  I remember watching a news special on how Director James Cameron made the movie.  He dove down to the actual wreckage of the ship and captured footage for the film.  He filmed the cast in a giant tank of cold water.  Cameron had multiple models of the ship built, including one done to scale.  He used photographs to replicate rooms from the Titanic, down to the last detail.  He used mind-blowing special effects, including computerized scenes of the ship sinking.  The effort was very impressive.  It felt like Jurassic Park – but better.  It seemed that nothing like it had been done before. 

So.  Everyone saw this movie . . . and then everyone got over it.  But one thing lingered – and it wasn’t Rose on the raft.

You know it.  I know it.  It was the song.  “My Heart Will Go On” completely took over the airwaves.  Stations played it three times an hour.  Commercials featured it.  Even MTV played the video constantly.  You couldn’t escape the song by moving off of Top 40 radio.  And heaven forbid you surfed to “Lite FM” or one of those stations that’s always on at the dentist.  Things got particularly bad when my local radio station (which used to be my grunge station – whimper!) spliced dialogue from the movie into the instrumental portions of the song.  So unnecessary.

Things got even worse when DJs played it at High School dances.  At my school, slow songs commonly yielded eye rolls and groans rather than too-close-for-the-chaperones’-comfort couples.  But when “My Heart Will Go On” started up, we all just fled.  “We’ve already heard it thirteen times today, so we’ll just go grab some snacks and soda, thankssssss.”    

Even after the movie craze died down and High School was over, the song stuck around . . . and around and around.  I’ll be fair:  it eventually faded into the background so that you only heard it at the dentist.[1]  But, my friends, the damage is done.  There’s no comfort or closure here.  We all continue to cringe on reflex when we hear those wailing and unforgettable (in a bad way) opening notes. 

Case in point:  Recently, when the sun popped out at the end of a rainy weekend, my husband and I decided to take advantage of the clear skies and headed to the beach for dinner.  We enjoyed a leisurely meal of Russian cuisine on the boardwalk.  We were chilling, absorbing the sounds of the waves and engaging in some high-quality people watching when, suddenly, I started hearing violin strings in the distance.  I looked at my husband – he’d heard it too.  He said, “That’s nice.”  But I listened closely.  “No it’s not!” I said as I jumped up.  I had to go. 

It wasn’t just a few random notes; it was the song.  I could not – and cannot – listen to it one more time.  I’m that scarred.  I had to get out of hearing range fast lest I be subjected to the complete rendition.  We had to pass the violinist to escape, and I contemplated yelling out, “Why that song?!  There are so many beautiful tunes!  Don’t like classical?  Try Broadway!  Bluegrass!  Jazz – anything!”  (I’m a fan of feedback.)  But I had to prioritize my well-being, and so I continued to focus on the flight path until we were finally far enough away that my poor ears were safe.  Deep breath.  At least I didn’t have to hear the whole thing.

Now, it may be hard to believe, but I genuinely mean no offense with this post.  Kudos to Ms. Dion and her impressively powerful pipes for dominating the airwaves.  But every generation has a song that haunts it, and “My Heart Will Go On” – whether it was objectively good or bad – is ours.  The bottom line is that I do not exaggerate when I say that I will be perfectly fine if I never hear it again.  But I’m also a realist, and it’s an unfortunate truth that “My Heart Will Go On” will go on.  My advice?  Make sure you have enough space on the boardwalk to run it out.


[1] Note to dentists:  Can you guys please work on improving your music selection?  You get mad at us patients for not keeping up with our regular appointments, but you don’t make it easy.  Throw some upbeat stuff on your office playlist!