At work, we have all finally agreed on a radio station. I confess (as I only will here) I secretly made this happen by “randomly” finding it on the dial. Oh, the subterfuge! There is one station, Seaview Radio, that I like to call “Dentist Office Music. ” I think it’s because I first heard it at my former dentist’s office. I know! I have shocked you. Forgive me.
It trucks in music from the ’50s to today, with a strong emphasis on the ’70s. As Josh Rouse once sang, “I’m feeling 1972.” And I am. I may just put Serpico on this afternoon! (Followed, of course, by the Always Sunny episode where Charlie becomes Serpico).
What’s good about this station:
1) Not a lot of commercials. But the ones that play are all local, and very old-fashioned. You know, “Our shoe spa that sells old lady sandals has been in business for 50 years! Birkenstock forever!” Shit like that.
2) CBS news every hour on the hour. It lets me know another horrific hour has passed, and it’s ALMOST OVER and I can go home and eat dark chocolate chips and peanut butter whilst watching awful reality TV. Huzzah!
3) Lots of Paul Simon. I mean, LOTS. It reminds me of when I was driving with one of my parents in the ’70s, in our old Mercury Comet, changing the stations to hear “Love Me Like a Rock.”
4) Every once a month or so, they’ll play something like Squeeze’s “Tempted,” and I completely lose my shit. And start to tell the other two idiots (who are 10 years younger than me) about how much I love Squeeze, and how I met Glen Tilbrook in a Winn Dixie parking lot on a rainy night and sang songs with him. But my nostalgia chubby is totally deflated because I get the “Derp?” faces from them and then I wonder why I even bother.
Speaking of Squeeze, I found out Chris Difford did the English translation for a Sigur Rós song on the new Sarah Brightman album. Which I bought on iTunes this week. Because Sarah is bonkers and I love her and she did a cover of Wings’ “Venus and Mars” on this new album, and man I love that song. I used to have it on an 8-track. And she also covers a Cocteau Twins song. Can you tell I am geeking out over how awesome this is? Sorry, I got all music nerdy AGAIN.
The bad things about this station:
1) Too much Jim Croce. Seriously.
2) Too much Tony Orlando and Dawn. HELP ME?
3) WAY TOO MUCH MANILOW.
Now is time for my secret shame. When I was a child I was in love with Barry Manilow. I know, how did I become the fruitfly I am with über sensitive gaydar if I was so deluded as a child? I do not know. He was awfully close to his mama. You would think that would have given it away. You have to admit, there’s something a little off about an 8-year-old girlchild sitting in her bedroom listening to “Weekend in New England” on repeat whilst taking pictures of its singer on TV. This was pre-YouTube, remember kiddies.
So. There’s that.
It’s been a trying week. My husband is going through a really rough time at work, but I know that happens when one person is expected to do the job of three. Which is pretty much what the entire U.S. workforce is expected to do now, except, of course, our receptionist who sits on her cell phone and puts on makeup all day.
Anyway. I feel for him, I truly do. I think I have a job through May, because they have scheduled our Ayn Rand Weekly Power Hour Meetings through the end of May. Wheee! I’m saving all my money in the rainy day fund.
My mama loves me. She loves me. She gets down on her knees and hugs me.
Yeah, thank you Spotify for indulging my weird mid-’70s foray into Simonalgia.
Do you remember that time Andy Warhol was on Love Boat? Seriously, that shit happened. It did.
She loves me loves me loves me loves me.
My mother (the one who rocks me like a rock) and sister are having a disturbance in the force, and once again I am called to intervene. I beg not to be put in the middle, but continually I am. It’s times like this that I miss my dad so much, it hurts. I just want things to be the way they were. Even though they were fucked up.
I hope you enjoyed that truth bomb!
I am rambling, but this is how my mind works. It goes from thought to thought, skipping like a stone on a lake.
Still crazy after all these years.
Oh, I bought more new music this week, the new Phoenix album and Jessie Ware’s Devotion, which I’ve been waiting on for like, forever. Damn you, U.K. only releases! In between the trip down Simon-Lane, I have been listening to this on repeat. Check out my girl giving you straight up Rachel Weisz realness.
I will remain here, doing laundry alone, watching the Powell/Pressburger film I queued up last night, and thinking of 50 more ways to leave my lover.