I am rabidly defensive of my music choices.
See, I don’t much like music. I mean, I like music, sure, but just not much of it. I don’t own music. I might have owned maybe 10 music cds in my entire four decades of existence. So this Christmas, 14 years after iTunes was created and 3 years since I’ve had my ipad, I finally asked Darling Husband to teach me how to buy music on iTunes so I can listen to all the songs I like.
For the past two months I’ve been creating a list of all the songs that I like so I would be ready to download them on Christmas day when I got my iTunes gift card. There are 109 songs on the list.
That’s it. That’s the complete list.
Some people adore music and play it all the stinkin’ time. Drives me nuts. I told you about that one time I went to a therapy session and the therapist had some quiet music playing in the background. I couldn’t help my eyes from glancing at the cd player. She said, “Is that too loud for you?” “Yes.” “You can turn it down.” I did. But still kept glancing at that irritating noise. Why do people play noise when they’re trying to talk to someone? Irritating. She said, “Is it still too loud?” “Can we just turn it off?” “Sure.” “Has anyone ever asked to turn off the music before?” “No.” I’m a trendsetter, I am.
With only 109 favorite songs in all the world, this music must be something else, huh? It must be the best of the best. The most beautiful or meaningful music in the world. Right?
Nah. I’m rabidly defensive of my 109 music choices because they stink. They’re really bad. They’re terrible songs. They’re cheesy. The only reason I like them is because they’re catchy and easy to sing along with. That’s it. That’s my criteria. Super catchy; can sing along. Done. Only 109 songs fit the bill.
While the rest of you are listening to a cool jazz medley while cooking some exotic foodie meal in the kitchen, I’m listening to Play that Funky Music White Boy and eating my Royal Farms chicken on a tv tray. Yes, really. Play that Funky Music is one of my all-time top 109 favorites. Already been purchased and downloaded.
Two days ago, for the first time EVER in 22 years of marriage, Darling Husband asked me what songs were my favorites–what songs had I bought with my Christmas gift? Ooo. Risky. He pressed the issue. “Why are you so afraid to show me your list? What do you think will happen?”
What did I think would happen? What did I think would happen?!
What would happen is that he wouldn’t be able to help himself from losing respect for me. I mean, Play that Funky Music?? That’s a horrible song! (Oooo! I’m sorry, Funky Music! You’re not a horrible song! Forget I said that! I still love you!)
He said, “It’ll be fine. You can show me.”
So I did, with trepidation. He was ok with many of my song choices, but he did say that Play that Funky Music was really bad and just couldn’t be forgiven.
And then he showed me the songs he likes. Oh yuck. They’re classical Chinese music and I don’t know what else. Bizarre stuff. I made fun of them. Darling Husband pointed out, ‘Looks like the only person making fun of the other person’s music choices is you.”
Ouch! He was right.
Since my tastes are pretty juvenile, let’s end this post with a song I’ve loved since I was 8 years old. Stray Cat Strut. Ooo. Such a great song! I love you, Stray Cat Strut!