Once upon a time I understood this phrase as it pertains to music. Now I love it all. And am not embarrassed by it at all. Feel no regret. How can it hurt me to like and dance to any and all songs. Nasty, dirty, raw hip-hop. Only once in awhile though. The San Francisco studio and girls just aren’t as into hip-hop as LA. Sheila kicked off her talk on Sunday by playing a snip-it of some hip-hop dude. Asked us if anyone had danced to it. I’d never heard it. Don’t get me wrong, in the right frame of mind it fills me and my body with confidence. Creates the most amazing energy with the woman in the chair. I draw power from the song. But rock, especially classic rock, like Dream On by Aerosmith or Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Lepard or something by the Stones. Sheila loves the Beatles. But they are hard to dance to. I listened to everything by them, since Brian has a huge collection, for almost an entire week non-stop to find a short list of their music that worked for me. Revolution #1 was strong enough to grab onto. They were rated number one in a recent countdown by VH1. As most influential or greatest something or other. Brian agrees with that. I was never a huge fan growing up. Sure I bopped around to I wanna hold your hand as much as the next teeny-bopper, but my heart belonged to Donny Osmond and his brothers. I was little, four or five, when I began listening to the radio and One Bad Apple was climbing the charts. Both about young love. The first pure joy at wanting to hold the girls hand. And it makes you want to bop, lift your knees to the percussion and claps. What was the go-go dance called, the pony? Whereas One Bad Apple told a story. There was history. The girl had been hurt. The guy wants her to try again. Trust him. He won’t hurt her. The song made me want to spin. And it gave me richer images. A basket full of apples. Lots of vocal oohs and ahhs. Different threads to choose from for how how to dance to it. Yet I’m supposed to feel guilty for being a fan? Sure the Beatles were cooler and they evolved their music. Took chances, got creative. But if it’s all there were I couldn’t S. Not that the Osmonds gave us much to dance to either. Both probably have a handful of songs. Preference in music is up to the listener. For S’ing I’d pick earthy stuff. I’d choose Etta James backed by Red Johnson on sax in a heartbeat over either of them today. Listen to the first 30 seconds of the sax in I can’t have you. Just close your eyes and listen. Don’t do anything else. Go ahead. I’ll wait. So, what did you think? I’d easily played the song 25 times, but never heard it with my entire body until early one August Sunday morning when that sax intro demanded I put my pen down, and listen, with my ears, my heart, my soul and my skin.
Music, all of it, any of it, is magic. Just because a song isn’t cool. Or the singer is a Mormon and doesn’t drink. Just check out the elegance of Donny Osmond as an adult with another awesome sax player singing This Guys in Love with You. It melts my insides because it reminds me that it’s how my husband loves me. And he shows me ever day. I danced to that song and it was like floating in the clouds in the sky. I’ve seen oodles of girls, women really, go crazy to dance to Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart. Their is deep longing in that song that seems to grab a lot of woman. And some men. I chose the perfect moment to go out and get the mail one day. A lean, fit guy zoomed by on his gleaming racing bike singing his heart out Total Eclipse. Why is that song a classic guilty pleasure. Sure, it’s a bit over the top. Sentimental. But haven’t we all felt that way at one time. Desperate for love. Depressed. Besides, guilt implies regret. A need to change and do something different. So does a guilty pleasure song mean you need to change it? Why isn’t it called Embarassed Pleasure? Or Hidden Pleasures? Since its songs people like and think they shouldn’t. Or will be judged for. I guess we all have those. Britney Spears is mine. Her voice is a bit too girly for me, but a few songs I enjoy and can even get my sexy on to - which, okay, embarrass me a tad. But I’ll get over it. Go ahead, just try not to get your groove on to Breathe On Me (Jaques LuCont's Thin White Duke Mix) [feat. Ying Yang Twins], Toxic, or her cover of My Perogative.
Brian just got home. I asked him “What’s so much better about ‘I want to hold your hand’ than ‘One Bad Apple’. “Oh, no contest.” He replied. But “Why?” He shrugged at me, like no need to explain telling me with telepathy. They’re the Beatles. So, Nothing else need be said! So I shared my reasoning from above. He just laughed and said “Oh, really.” Rolled his eyes then said “I’ve got to go out again.” “Why?” I asked. I got volunteered last night. “Oh, I forgot.” Yeah Me too. He’d gone to the firs meeting of our neighborhood watch at my nudging. And promised to go back today and replace a burned out lightbulb. I’m going back to Robert Plant’s newly released cd. He’s cool. No defending or arguing needed. And Silver Rider sounds like it might be a great song to S to.
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Interesting where this prompt took you. Just the format - and the length - tells me you got on a roll here. And the energy of that is in the writing. This just moves along like a high-speed train. A terrific thing to capture in all your writing.
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