Welcome to my weekend: really nothing to share but a few little oddball occurrences that I think are worth a chuckle.
The other day Coach picked up Curly from dancing (yes, that is all we do . . . drive to and from dancing, in case you are new here). He texted me a short audio recording of what was playing on the radio as they drove home. It was John Denver singing 'Rocky Mountain High.' Coach joined in towards the end of the recording to
ruin enhance the moment. Let's see how tech savvy I am to see if I can upload it here.
Anyway, have I mentioned how uninformed I am when it comes to music? I blame the 1976 red Chevy Impala station wagon that my folks drove.
You, in unison: Huh?
Dad was cheap and only equipped our cars with an am radio. Not getting the connection? My childhood, at least the time spent in the car, was minus music.
When we were at home though, Mom played records of Elvis Presley, Barry Manilow, Neil Diamond, Kenny Rogers (very limited, thinking this may have been Dad's taste) and of course John Denver. My sisters had a Grease record and Sean Cassidy, but Mom's records dominated the player.
Oh my gosh, and Dad usually blared traditional Irish music records once I got to about the age of six. Daytime hours were still Mom's choice. Dad's obsession with all things Irish dominated our lives when he was home. Is my life beginning to make sense to any of you? If so, please explain.
Part of my music disorder includes, but is not limited to:
not knowing who sings what,
if a band is a one hit wonder or not,
names of groups,
lyrics to songs,
when a song came out (with the exception of my high school years),
or what music I even prefer.
Weird, I know. Hey, I have a lot of other good qualities, like I am always ready and willing to fight neighbors (there is an update here that I NEED to write) and I bake great cookies.
Seriously, I wonder if there is a name for my clueless-music issue?
Because of the aforementioned dysfunction, I sometimes forget that I enjoy John Denver. It is true Denver does not pop up in mainstream music stations, so I guess he's easy to forget (I type this while bowing my head in shame). Coach gave me a CD box set of Neil Diamond years ago for Christmas, so that music enjoyment is at the forefront of my memory.
I do know this - for the most part I dislike country music. If John Denver is considered country, then he is the exception to my I HATE COUNTRY RULE.
Anyway, as I was typing on the computer that night (happy to NOT have dancing driving duty) I found John Denver on YouTube and let it play while I typed. It brought tears to my eyes.
**We do have a lot of incredibly stressful stuff in the works over here in I-would-suck-at-name-that-tune land, unsure if I will describe our stress, but just know that we are seriously struggling with a situation that has left us sleepless at times, scared, and uncertain of how to proceed. Leaning into our faith heavily. Fortunately, Coach and I have drawn closer to one another as we try to keep the boat afloat.** . . . public service announcement over . . .
I guess hearing John sing took me back to simpler days.
I had an epiphany . . . "Oh yeah, I dig John Denver."
I remember when he died. Tragic. Oh, and using the word 'dig' reminds me that Mom had a t-shirt with John Denver's face on it. Ah, the 70s.
After my workout on Sunday, I was in the kitchen making my chopped salad. The hours I spend chopping my salad, sigh. Why not be entertained as I carefully work so as not to injure another digit? I decided to ask the little device that sits on our counter (that belongs to Tank) to play John Denver radio.
Because of my aforementioned lack of reliance on music, I rarely think to ask it to play music. See above.
Me: Alexis play John Denver radio.
Coach: (from the dining room where he was wandering around dusting for cobwebs and ceiling fans because I added this chore to the list of jobs on the kitchen counter. It was THAT simple, who knew? Honestly I credit his willingness to help to our current state of walking around like emotional zombies, best to stay on each other's good side):
I told Alexis to never play John Denver.
He must've been channeling his inner comedian because as he walked around the house with the long dust mop extension thing (combined with his 6'4" height - he has some serious reach) he was listening to comedian Jim Gaffigan on his wireless earbuds. Anyone who has not listened to him, do yourself a favor. He is hilarious and not raunchy, if that's your thing then skip him. For my Canadian friends, Nicole and Ali (and anyone else, not intending to exclude anyone here) we watched a stand up routine he did while in Canada about Canadians and it was brilliant. I digress.
Alexis would not play for me. Damn it. I hollered my Denver-request at her again. Nothing.
Mini or Curly a few rooms away, heard my struggle and called to me:
Her name is AlexA - NOT AlexIS.
(They did not say DUH, but they totally could have).
Me: AlexA play John Denver radio.
She played 'Take Me Home Country Road'. Loved it. Then there was a string of other songs like 'Let It Be' which I heard played at a young man's funeral a few years ago and let's just say my tear ducts have been getting a workout and this was no exception. Thanks, Alexa who I might call Alexis just to piss her off.
Of course there was a string of other songs that were also great, but don't expect me to remember them. I was honestly trying to remember them for this post. Gone. What is wrong with me?
What area of pop culture do you suck at? Never watched a sitcom? Can't name all 6 Brady kids? You would fail at a game of 'know your cars'? You never read those vampire books (me neither)? You care little about celebrities and cannot name one or a single dumb thing one of them has done (this is where Coach's photograph should be posted. He actually gets irritated that I watch the Academy Awards - "It's all fake and dumb.") Do tell.