Lame-a-palooza

Today is Friday, and now that it's spring, that means windows down, music blasting, half-wet hair blowing in the wind ... and showing up to work looking like I have Edward Scissorhands' stylist.

It's casual Friday, so I'm wearing my new Wonder Woman T-shirt, cuffed rockabilly capris and the gold chain-mail-looking earrings I wore to a Halloween disco party.

I feel a little bit like a rocker chick today in spite of the fact that I've been listening to lame early '90s hits all morning. Do you have any idea how hard it is to maintain the self-delusion that you're an alt-rock, above-it-all, new-wave-grunge girl when you're singing along to Monica's "Don't Take it Personal"? (known in some countries as "Song that repeats the same line 9,000 times and encourages men everywhere to blame all their relationship troubles on PMS")

I've been playing some of the mixed CDs I made when I got my first computer with a CD burner in December 2002. They're compilations of songs from the CDs I hardly ever listened to anymore. I planned to save the "good" songs and then sell the CDs at a yard sale. At this point, I can't remember which ones sold and which didn't. Let's just say I haven't been missing my old Bon Jovi CD too much. (Of course, how can I miss it when my office mate just played "You Give Love a Bad Name"?)

Most of the songs on these mixed CDs are almost too embarassing to admit I own, let alone enjoy. Yet I get a strange pleasure from embarassing myself, so I'll reveal that TLC's "Diggin' on You," Better Than Ezra's "Good," and Bush's "Glycerine" are in attendance. And no '90s collection is complete without Oasis' "Wonderwall," Jill Sobule's "Supermodel," the Spin Doctors' "Little Miss Can't Be Wrong," and last but not least ... everyone's 9th grade dance favorite: "Cotton-Eye Joe" by the Rednex.

OK, I admit I'm a sucker for nostalgia. I was in middle school in the early '90s, and that was the time when I began to be interested in music other than what my mother played in the car, the time when I started watching MTV (you know, back when they actually played videos), the time when I bought my first newfangled "Compact Disk" (I think it was The Eagles' greatest hits compilation Hell Freezes Over.).

I could try to redeem myself now by listing all of the artists I liked in the early '90s who are still respectable today. But where's the fun in that? We all know we were lame in middle school; I say embrace the lameness ... but please oh please no more feathered bangs!

Morning Mix, Vol. 1

Writing that post about the Curious George soundtrack's miraculous morning powers made me think about what type of song is best for the morning commute. What does the ideal morning song need to do?

1. Not remind me how life sucks.
2. Keep me from dozing off and swerving into oncoming traffic.
3. Put me in a good mood (or at least take the edge off my bad mood).

So I've been scrolling through every song in my arsenal to compile an ideal mix of morning tunes.

Here's Volume 1:

Everyday by Buddy Holly
(because it's so sunshiney)

Get Rhythm by Johnny Cash
(I have the Joaquin Phoenix version from the Walk the Line soundtrack)

All I Wanna Do by Sheryl Crow
(ok, so it's an obvious one)

Supermodel by Jill Sobule
(this one gets bonus points for making me laugh)

Build Me Up, Buttercup by The Foundations
(it sounds chipper even if it's not)

Change by The Lightning Seeds
(the repeated line "put your foot down and drive" makes this one a shoe in)

Yakety Yak by The Coasters
(I loved this song when I was a kid, and it makes me feel like I'm 7 years old again, dancing around in the basement singing into a hairbrush.)

9 to 5 by the fabulous Dolly Parton
(the perfect morning commute song, peppy and full of work angst)

Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes by Paul Simon
(from his I'm-super-authentic-because-I-hang-out-with-Africans phase ... it starts out slow, but it picks up after the first verse. The lyrics are so weird that they're delightful to sing along with.)

I've Still Got My Health by Bette Midler
(because it's optimistic ... in a twisted way)

I Feel Lucky by Mary Chapin Carpenter
(fun song and worth it just for the bizarro line "Lyle Lovett's right beside me with his hand upon my thigh")

No Rain by Blind Melon
(remember the bee girl video? I listened to this song over and over and over in my middle school bedroom, singing along until my throat ached. Of course, then I didn't have the depressing knowledge that the lead singer would die of a drug overdose.)

3 x 5 by John Mayer
(a mellow little song)

Fast as You by Dwight Yoakam
(guaranteed to make you tap your fingers on the steering wheel)

Van Lear Rose by Loretta Lynn
(sentimental but fantastic and raw)

Don't Lie by the Black Eyed Peas
(By all rights, I should hate a band who has a song entitled, "Don't Phunk With my Heart" and whose singer pees on herself onstage. Yet somehow I can't stop myself from liking their music, especially this upbeat confessional song.)

Shoop by Salt n Pepa
(because it's so fun to sing along with ... how can you not smile when you're saying, "wanna thank your mother for a butt like that"?)

Of course, no matter how good the songs are, any CD will get old after a while. Listen to it too many times in a row, and you'll want to fling it Frisbee-style out the window and sever someone's jugular.

Next up: Evening Mix, Vol. 1

Miserably Fantastic

In honor of St. Patty's Day, a tribute to one of my favorite authors, the literary world's own charming old Irish person: Frank McCourt.

His Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir Angela's Ashes is my favorite book in the world. I can't review it because who can review a book this good without looking like a pompous ass? Instead, a groveling praise-fest will do.

On the first page of Angela's Ashes are my favorite lines in all of literature:

When I look back on my childhood, I wonder how I survived at all. It was, of course, a miserable childhood: a happy childhood is hardly worth your while.

For a writer in particular, those are the truest words ever spoken. What do you have to write about if nothing tragic and miserable ever happened to you in your life?

I've read the print version of Angela's Ashes several times, but I listened to it for the first time last week on unabridged audio CD. McCourt narrates it himself, and by damn it might be even better out loud. His accent is different from the Irish accents I've heard before ... less lilting and delightful but still uniquely wonderful. He reads in a way that's mumbly and casual and makes me wish I'd had him as a teacher. I love this guy. Love him!

I listened to his Teacher Man the week before, and it was incredible, too. I may just send a copy with a sappy note to each of my favorite high school teachers. The kind who stood out mostly because they cared deeply about their subjects and their students. (If you're out there Dr. James Southern, this means you.)

Still, Angela's Ashes is my favorite of his works by a mile. It's miserable, of course. But, unlike the movie they made of it, it's funny too. Best of all is the way he captures the child's voice - the questioning, the naivete and yet the understanding deeper than adults know.

Ach, 'tis beautiful.

Magic Morning Medicine

I am not a morning person. Before I graduated from college and got an 8 to 5 job, I liked to stay up late and sleep in. I did my best thinking at night.

Now, I still like to stay up late, but I'm too sleepy to get any good thinking done. Then I'm even more tired in the morning, exacerbating the not-morning-person problem.

Since I hate coffee, I don't have the primary crutch of most not-morning-people. Instead, now I have Jack Johnson.

This Monday - the worst morning of all mornings - I popped in the Curious George soundtrack, which my sister had given me the week before. I had high hopes for it. There's been plenty of hype, and I usually trust my sister's judgement.

Also, I'd previewed many of the songs on iTunes and downloaded "With My Own Two Hands" (which features Ben Harper).

Besides, I already had one Jack Johnson CD (his 2002 release, Brushfire Fairytales), and it was good, clean fun. Excellent background-noise music because many of the songs sound the same, and they aren't the kind that require me to sing along (badly).

Still, I didn't expect the soundtrack to have magical powers. Within a couple of songs, I was smiling! SMILING! While driving down the interstate! On a MONDAY! Before 9 a.m.!

The sun was shining, and suddenly the day felt beautiful and fresh, full of promise. The song "People Watching" made me giggle and notice a dude in business attire on a motorcycle beside me at a red light. The song "The Three Rs" (for reduce, reuse, recycle) made me want to go home and sort my garbage. "Lullaby" made me want to give this CD to all my nieces and nephews, even the new one who will be born in August.

I bounced into work with a smile still on my face from the lyrics, "If you have one sandwich, cut that thang in two!" (from "The Sharing Song"). My co-workers even noticed ... they gave me those sideways, narrowed-eye looks that mean, "What's up with you?" and/or "Can I have some of what you're taking?"

This CD has been spinning in my car all week. I only today switched to a mixed CD (yes, I'm still in the dark ages pre-iPod), and that was only because I was afraid I'd burn myself out.

I recommend this CD for commuters of all ages ... especially the ones who need a boost of sunny personality in the morning. Another children's CD with a similar, folksy vibe: Peter, Paul and Mommy, by Peter, Paul & Mary.

Cherubim

I wish this book was available in audio form:



I can imagine an entire blog dedicated to hating other people's kids. It would be easy to find new content. Just go to the mall, the mini golf course, the park, the skating rink - aha! the movie theater!

The movie theater is by far the worst place for obnoxious small humans. Try going to see a Harry Potter movie. Just try it! Even at midnight, the place is packed with ankle biters spouting such charming phrases as, "Why does Harry have a stick?" (from the younger siblings) and "Ooh, watch this part - this is where Harry fights a dragon! Don't worry - he wins!" (from the older siblings)

Still, I usually don't blame it on the kids. Even when they're giving away key plot points in a movie, there's something charming about their eagerness. It's hard not to get excited along with them and remember for a moment what it was like to be a kid.

Besides, for every brat, there is a little one who plays peek-a-boo at you from the front seat of a grocery cart. It's no wonder people keep having babies ... just one smile from a curly-headed cherub, and you can feel like the coolest person in the world.