And every other year, apparently. Last night I was with R and J and we were singing traditional Irish folk songs. It occurred to me that besides "All for me Grog" they were, uniformly, beautiful and sad. (I don't count the sea chanties....sorry.)
And then came a litany of sad songs. Think about it. Most really really popular bands, they have one sad song. Probably if you know at least one song of the band's, it's a sad song. Every big name has at least one trademark sad song. Here are a few of my selected examples, combined with a couple of exceptions to the list.
Notice, there is no one "new" in this list. That's because you have to be a time-tested, enduring musical presence in order to be counted on this list. Not everybody has to like what you do, but anything post-80s doesn't count at all.
Sad Songs by Big Names
1. Stairway to Heaven, Led Zeppelin
2. Imagine, John Lennon
3. Leavin' on a Jetplane, John Denver
4. Puff the Magic Dragon, Peter Paul & Mary
5. So Far Away, Carole King
6. Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, Gordon Lightfoot
7. Billie Jean, Michael Jackson
8. Major Tom, David Bowie
9. My Heart will go on, Celine Dion (this breaks the 80s rule but dang, she's been singing for a LONG TIME)
10. Howard Jones - No One Is to Blame (though I'd rather listen to Everlasting Love)
11. Poison - Every Rose Has its Thorn (though I really don't think Poison merits being on the "great" list, this is their one song everyone knows, and it is sad)
12. Simon & Garfunkel - The Boxer (and most of their other songs)
13. Fleetwood Mac - Landslide
14. Tiny Dancer/Candle In the Wind, Elton John
15. She's Always A Woman, Billy Joel. There are a lot of other ones from him that are really well-known, too...like Piano Man, anyone?
16. You're So Vain, Carly Simon
17. Faithfully - Journey (being faithful isn't sad, but all the words are sad, as is the general feeling of the song)
18. Hotel California - Eagles
19. Horse With No Name - America
Exceptions to the Rule
1. Beach Boys (Surfin' and Barbara Ann don't count, though "Help me Rhonda" does nearly get on the Pathetic list. Don't get me wrong, I love that song as much as anyone else as far as its singing in the car qualities go, but Rhonda is just a fool if she falls for that line....)
2. ABBA (Dancing Queen is their #1, which isn't sad, but Fernando is fairly well known, and it definitely is - so are a lot of their other hits)
I know I left out a great many. And of course, my point was to prove that sad songs really do sell, so admittedly, my exceptions list is a little small. But seriously, name me some big names that are always happy!! Let's make a whole list.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Atlas Shrugged/Manic Monday
Last night, I was doing laundry. Yay for laundry!
Not yay for what happened next. I was in the midst of ordering a down blanket for myself, on an awesome deal, when I heard something rattle. I didn't think much of it. Then I heard the dryer buzz. I did think something of that, and went to change it. Only when I opened the door, I was greeted by a gargantuan puddle of blue. Yep, that's right, the detergent bottle fell from its (I thought it was) secure location, and the top shattered, spraying it everywhere, and seeping all over the bathroom/laundry room floor.
I tried my best to clean it up. It took forever. I kept wishing that I was Atlas, or Samson, or even Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime, and that I could leverage the w/d up. But then I thought, Atlas couldn't hold the world up AND clean up under; that takes too much coordination. So then I wished I had a personal Atlas to shrug so I could clean underneath it anyway. When I got the mess down to mostly a thin soap veneer on the floor, and had tried as many tricks with paper towels as I knew to get what was under up, I went back to finish ordering my blanket. Only the offer of the super great deal expired at midnight in another time zone, and it was now nine minutes too late, no ifs, ands, or buts. No laundry disasters accepted as excuses.
So now my bathroom smells like fresh laundry...that's good. What's not so good is the aftermath. *Sigh*
Yep. Yesterday was definitely a Monday.
Not yay for what happened next. I was in the midst of ordering a down blanket for myself, on an awesome deal, when I heard something rattle. I didn't think much of it. Then I heard the dryer buzz. I did think something of that, and went to change it. Only when I opened the door, I was greeted by a gargantuan puddle of blue. Yep, that's right, the detergent bottle fell from its (I thought it was) secure location, and the top shattered, spraying it everywhere, and seeping all over the bathroom/laundry room floor.
I tried my best to clean it up. It took forever. I kept wishing that I was Atlas, or Samson, or even Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime, and that I could leverage the w/d up. But then I thought, Atlas couldn't hold the world up AND clean up under; that takes too much coordination. So then I wished I had a personal Atlas to shrug so I could clean underneath it anyway. When I got the mess down to mostly a thin soap veneer on the floor, and had tried as many tricks with paper towels as I knew to get what was under up, I went back to finish ordering my blanket. Only the offer of the super great deal expired at midnight in another time zone, and it was now nine minutes too late, no ifs, ands, or buts. No laundry disasters accepted as excuses.
So now my bathroom smells like fresh laundry...that's good. What's not so good is the aftermath. *Sigh*
Yep. Yesterday was definitely a Monday.
Friday, April 16, 2010
The Merit of Bad Chocolate
Sitting here, eating dinner (my usual, only sans spinach), I look at the ornate glass bowl I inherited from my neighbor-for-a-day, which has chocolate eggs wrapped in those foil colors that look garish at any other time of year. Perhaps in our minds we suspect that, in October, if we purchased them, they would be [stale/old/moldy/dessicated] unfit for human consumption, seeing as how in our minds we associate these chocolates with Eastertide.
To give some background, I bought them for 50% off the Monday after Easter in an ill-advised shopping trip at 7 pm before having dinner. Grocery shopping without having eaten complex carbohydrates (a phrase I used to hate, it having been used too many times to count to lecture/educate me on the needs of my body, when all I wanted to eat was candy, back in the day) in the last 30 minutes before departure is definitely not something I should ever do, and yet I still do it at least bimonthly. I was trying to decide which ones to get, and someone who was probably around my dad's age looked at me and said, "oh, so you're the 50% off after easter chocolate lady," to which I arched an eyebrow and gave a somewhat sardonic smile back and said, "Clearly, that I am." Which I think kind of boggled his mind, as I looked less than respectable (I believe I wasn't even matching) and he was taken aback that someone actually /admitted/ being a 50% off chocolate lady.
I decided it would be nice to fill my bowl, anyway, after I got them and it was too late to take them back. So I dumped them out and they have been sitting there ever since. I admit I've eaten perhaps a handful since then. But to get to the main point: the merits of bad chocolate are:
1. It's sweet. When you have a craving, it will likely satisfy it.
2. It's slightly sickening. You can taste the wax. Even if it's sitting there, seemingly temptingly winking with those jewel/pastel colored wrappers, you can sniff haughtily and think, "I'm too good for that chocolate. It's not worth the {insert 'calories' or 'sugar crash' here, depending on your preference - I prefer the latter}. I don't need it.
3. It gives people who come over something to do. In absence of a good coffee table book, bad chocolate is nearly always tempting enough to get visitors to have a piece, or two, or three or five, depending on (a) how well they know you; (b) how hungry they are; (c) how their mothers raised them; and (d) how much they like bad chocolate. Absent better conversation, any visitor can always unwrap one, pop it in his/her mouth, and thereby (hopefully politely - smacking lip chocolate eaters are frowned upon by Miss Manners, I'm sure) refrain from carrying on verbally.
Or, if it gets to be October, it can be an instrument of ridicule: When did you buy this chocolate? It's so old! Throw it out already! {Then why did you just have a piece?}
Having pointed out its virtues, I am still going to steadfastly refuse to give in to the siren call of bad (seasonal, which makes it even worse) chocolate.
*Update. My sister W came to visit in July. She said, "Are those from Easter." I said, "Yes, they are." By the end of her visit, they were gone. So! Bad chocolate really DOES have merit!!
To give some background, I bought them for 50% off the Monday after Easter in an ill-advised shopping trip at 7 pm before having dinner. Grocery shopping without having eaten complex carbohydrates (a phrase I used to hate, it having been used too many times to count to lecture/educate me on the needs of my body, when all I wanted to eat was candy, back in the day) in the last 30 minutes before departure is definitely not something I should ever do, and yet I still do it at least bimonthly. I was trying to decide which ones to get, and someone who was probably around my dad's age looked at me and said, "oh, so you're the 50% off after easter chocolate lady," to which I arched an eyebrow and gave a somewhat sardonic smile back and said, "Clearly, that I am." Which I think kind of boggled his mind, as I looked less than respectable (I believe I wasn't even matching) and he was taken aback that someone actually /admitted/ being a 50% off chocolate lady.
I decided it would be nice to fill my bowl, anyway, after I got them and it was too late to take them back. So I dumped them out and they have been sitting there ever since. I admit I've eaten perhaps a handful since then. But to get to the main point: the merits of bad chocolate are:
1. It's sweet. When you have a craving, it will likely satisfy it.
2. It's slightly sickening. You can taste the wax. Even if it's sitting there, seemingly temptingly winking with those jewel/pastel colored wrappers, you can sniff haughtily and think, "I'm too good for that chocolate. It's not worth the {insert 'calories' or 'sugar crash' here, depending on your preference - I prefer the latter}. I don't need it.
3. It gives people who come over something to do. In absence of a good coffee table book, bad chocolate is nearly always tempting enough to get visitors to have a piece, or two, or three or five, depending on (a) how well they know you; (b) how hungry they are; (c) how their mothers raised them; and (d) how much they like bad chocolate. Absent better conversation, any visitor can always unwrap one, pop it in his/her mouth, and thereby (hopefully politely - smacking lip chocolate eaters are frowned upon by Miss Manners, I'm sure) refrain from carrying on verbally.
Or, if it gets to be October, it can be an instrument of ridicule: When did you buy this chocolate? It's so old! Throw it out already! {Then why did you just have a piece?}
Having pointed out its virtues, I am still going to steadfastly refuse to give in to the siren call of bad (seasonal, which makes it even worse) chocolate.
*Update. My sister W came to visit in July. She said, "Are those from Easter." I said, "Yes, they are." By the end of her visit, they were gone. So! Bad chocolate really DOES have merit!!
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