The Soundtrack of My Life?

The last time I blogged, I believe it was snowing. We're about there again, except we're in the middle of a record week for warm temps.

(Thanks for the weather update, Lid, now we resume blogging.)

I am trying to keep a family history blog since I joined Ancestrydotcom, so that takes up time that I could use here, instead, writing about ...  nothing, as I used to in the good old days. 

So I'm jumping back in with a meme which you answer with a song that fits the description. I'll do five today and then take it up again. Feel free to leave your own choices in the comments!

Day 1: "A song from childhood"  I'll go with: "Keep on Dancin'," by the Gentrys. I still love the percussion and the fake ending. Love these images from the 60s and 70s, too.

Day 2: "A song that reminds of your ex boy/girlfriend"
The last ex-boyfriend I had was 1981, so ...
the song from the vault would be "Blue Morning, Blue Day," by Foreigner. Here we are at our senior prom. Years later, I realized I was dating a Dave Coulier doppleganger. This boy has passed way, rest in peace.

Day 3: "A song that reminds you of your parents" "Let Your Love Flow" My mom dearly loved this song when it was popular, which made me kind of not like it, because when you're a teenager, it's wEiRd when your parents like what is popular. (No worries; I have been repaid. 3X.)

Day 4: "A song that calms you down" "Summer Breeze," by Seals and Crofts. Who needs pot when you've got this song.

Day 5: "A song that is often stuck in your head" This is a three-way tie. 1) "Sister Golden Hair"  2) "How Long" 3) "Sentimental Lady"



Yes, I have a thing for the 70s, but please share your choices, even if they're from the 21st Century!

Fleetwood Mac "On With the Show" Louisville Concert

They are in their 60s and 70s, consummate performers who seem to love what they're doing--pretty remarkable, since they've been doing it for over 40 years. In fact, Fleetwood Mac could've named their current concert series, "Never Gonna Phone It In."

This iconic album cover, or in my case, 8 track tape cover, is tattooed on my brain. In 1978, when I was 16, Indiana sustained the mother of all blizzards. We were trapped in our houses for a couple of weeks, out of school for about 3 weeks. I've never seen anything like it since. I spent many hours in our tiny den, listening to Rumours over and over. And over. I loved that album and subsequent songs from Stevie Nicks' solo career.

FM reunited with Christine McVie and came to Indy on this tour, but we missed out on the tickets. So we purchased some for Louisville and went to the concert February 17.

Guess what? As if a nostalgic nod to my blizzard memories, a big snowstorm hit Louisville and nearly shut down the town. We were worried the concert might be canceled. We arrived the night before, and the town was a ghost town--restaurants closed, downtown streets had no traffic. It was eerie.

But, as they say, "On With the Show."

I don't know if I ever need to attend another concert by another entertainer. I can't think who else I'd like to see as much, certainly not more. Christine McVie sounded like magic. Lindsey Buckingham is a guitar wizard. Mick Fleetwood is ... crazy good. The other band members, the back up singers, the stage show--all amazing. Which is why I look giddy here. I don't have a "bucket list," but if I did, I could've been crossing off one hope-to-do-before-I-die item because of this concert. I mentioned they've been doing this for 40+ years, and I'm sure they're tired of the same old catalog of songs, but thankfully, they do not exhibit any signs of boredom on stage. They do not disappoint!

I just love Stevie Nicks. Still wearing velvet, boots, gossamer shawls, still twirling with open arms and bowing deep with one foot forward. Still the Gypsy, still the poet in our hearts. Still speaking for the 16 year old in me.

I can't post any snippets of the music, for some reason. So I'll just leave you with this pic we snapped right outside the arena as we walked to our hotel. Lovely night. Thank you for the memories, George.

Set List at Louisville

Puppy Love Lives On -- Boy Bands

Forty-one years ago, about this time in the evening, I was screaming my little teeny bopper head off in the Indiana State Fair grandstand--one tiny, screaming ant-like creature with stringy hair and bell bottom pants, in the midst of thousands of similar screaming ants. It was amazing.

I was 11 years old. I thought I was 16.

Well, I got over Donny quickly in middle school because I saw boys I had never seen before, and HELLO, never looked back. Then when I was in high school and news broke of Donny's marriage, I had to suffer the indignity of all the teasing because I had carried that Osmond lunch box in elementary school like a purple metal engagement ring that always smelled like peanut butter. I deserved the teasing.

I still love purple, however. That was not a convenient adjustment of the moment just to win Donny. I have always loved it. I don't still love that jumpsuit, however.

I titled this post, "Puppy Love Lives On" because tonight, my youngest daughter is on her way to Nashville with a group of friends to see the biggest boy band in the world, One Direction. I almost typed "One Dimension," because I'm old and don't pay attention to boy bands anymore, but boy bands never die; they just reincarnate. There's just something about a boy band, isn't there?

This would be me at about that age. Note that I'm indeed wearing purple. Try not to note the white tennis shoes and socks.









That is also me in that second pic. Still wearing the purple. You won't believe this, but my picket fence teeth grew mostly together without braces. I have no idea.

Anyway, here's to boy bands, not as "Sweet and Innocent" as they used to be, but still charming and "Stil-ish." See what I did there? (That's Harry Stiles of One Dementia. I mean One Direction.)

Have fun, Kristin!

Running, Shadows & John Mayer

Recently, I went for a nighttime run. Confident I'd be home before absolute dark, I did not take my phone or my inconvenient pepper spray. When I reached the turn for home, I realized it was already darker than I anticipated and not as well-lit. I could have sworn there were more street lights along this route.

Aware now of every breath, every pad-pad of my feet falling on pavement and the sweat running down my back and forehead, my running became more labored. Glancing around with each new sound, I became ultra aware of my surroundings, birds in bushes, crickets, unidentifiable sounds.

And then, I spotted a man in a pick up truck who seemed to be watching me more than he should. Anticipating where I would run next, he drove forward, just a little. He did this a couple of times, and my heightened senses plus fatigue plus fear swallowed up my courage and rational thinking. I was a running mess of fear.

I turned a corner, shot backward glances to see if he was still following. No sign.

By this time, as if I were in a haunted forest, everything around me spooked me. I looked at the sidewalk, gasped and made a noise that came from the back of my throat: there was my shadow, and then ... one more! He was chasing me!

Within seconds, I realized the second shadow was also mine. I cannot express how relieved and stupid I felt. I looked up to see what lighting could cause this phenomenon, but I couldn't figure it out, and I'm still not sure how I had a double shadow.

For the next half mile home, I forced myself to stay aware of my surroundings and plan what to do should something bad actually happen.

And then I would see the second shadow and relive the terror again! I could not stop the inward jolt of fear at the sight of the shadows, but each time I reacted, I was frustrated with myself. "It's just a shadow. It's YOUR shadow--why are you so skittish? This is stupid. Just. Run." I was never so glad to reach my door.

Throughout my shower, my thoughts went two directions: First, I would never be so stupid again as to run at night without telling anyone where I was going, with no phone or spray. Ridiculous! Second, the double shadows--how did that happen? Why could I never get myself to stop reacting as if someone were chasing me? Why was I afraid of harmless shadows? I thought about how silly it was to be afraid of something I knew couldn't hurt me, and yet I couldn't stop looking at it, as if it could change form. It was powerless, even something I inadvertently created, and yet it had the power to distract me, slow me, scare me, take my mind off of my goal--get home as fast as possible.

My fear seemed to wash off me like the suds in the drain.

And then I thought about shadows in another sense--shadows as the events or people or fears that compel us to take our eyes and hearts off of goals, that distract us, scare us.

Past failures can be shadows.
Personal shortcomings, too.
People who hurt us or shamed us can be shadows.
Fear of the future or unknown can taunt us.

We may have done things in our lives that inadvertently created the shadows, but if only we could see that they are powerless when we see them for what they are: flimsy reflections behind us. They do not define us. They have no bearing on how we live, if we do not give them the power to haunt us. They don't predict what's ahead; they only report what was, and sometimes the shadows themselves are distorted, not a true representation of us, anyway.

I love John Mayer's "Shadow Days," especially these lyrics:

I'm a good man with a good heart
Had a tough time, got a rough start
But I finally learned to let it go
Now I'm right here and I'm right now
And I'm open knowing somehow
That my shadow days are over
My shadow days are over now.


May all of our shadow days be over. We do not have to live with them dogging us, controlling us. We have to learn to let them go, look straight ahead, and run our race the way we were meant to.

The Annoying Earworm--or the Song You Must Turn Off

Dictionary Definition for Earworm: A song or tune that gets stuck in one's mind and repeats as if on a tape, also called cognitive itch, sticky tune.

We've all experienced the earworm phenomenon. And if you are over 40, I'm betting that the popular Coke song of the 70s song lodged itself in your brain for the long haul. That song always made me feel uncomfortable--giving me the same heebie jeebies as a doll with evil intentions. It was as innocuous as a folk song sung by a Flower Child on a mountain top, and yet it was as creepy as a cult incantation:



Question: What is your most recent earworm--or what is the one song you MUST turn off or your ears will bleed?

My current "sticky tune" is "Moves Like Jagger" by Maroon 5. But I don't mind because I'm a Maroon 5 fan. In fact, the "whistle" intro is now my ringtone. So I don't mind that this song is in a loop in my head even as I am trying to concentrate on writing to you right now.

But we don't always get to choose our cognitive itch; it chooses us. Sometimes it's the theme of your preschool child's favorite TV program or a school's fight song. After writing that, I'm glad my earworm is Adam Levine and not Barney the Dinosaur.

There is one song, however, that I cannot stand to hear even once, and this is the backstory of how I came to hate it.

When I was a young teenager, I'm guessing about 14, the lady across the street from us was going through a divorce. In what I can only imagine was a broken-hearted, bleary-eyed stupor, she played one song over and over and over and over ... surely as loudly as her stereo would go. All day long, for WEEKS, the song drifted in through open windows and doors up and down our street. I felt like I was going to lose my teenage mind. Everyone was talking about it; nobody did anything about it.

At some point, the torture stopped. At least it stopped in real time. But whenever I hear the opening chords of this song, I am back in my driveway in cut-offs with my long stringy hair and disastrous attempts at make up. And I'm looking across the street at that plain white house with every window and door open, hearing this song blare from a mammoth stereo, gritting my teeth in frustration. To this day, when I hear the first few notes, I go to any length, scramble every way, knocking over hairspray bottles, tripping on cords, stepping on the dog, to shut it OFF.

This post officially makes Gordon Lightfoot the performer of my two least favorite songs in the universe: "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald," and ... "Sundown." Oh, the torture!

Something Special for Mother's Day

I'd like you to meet Myla Smith, a songwriter from Memphis, who wrote a song called "Lilttle Caleb" for her best friend's son after he was born. She's releasing it as a free download for Mother's Day, and you can catch it right here on her website. It's a very sweet song with clever, heartwarming lyrics. Myla's voice is pure and sweet and a joy to listen to.

This is a pic of Caleb with his mom, the inspirations for this song.



And here is Myla to tell you about the song in her own words.



So please head on over to Myla's place and give "Little Caleb" a listen, download it, and share it with friends! Thank you for the gift, Myla!

Sunday Dance, All the Way from Budapest

This video made me think of the lyrics "There is freedom within; there is freedom without ...." by Crowded House, 1987, in "Don't Dream It's Over"

Talk to the One

Don't ask me about her theology; don't tell me about her theology. Don't know, don't care. But I love this song. L-O-V-E it. I've been singing it for two or three days.

Sheryl Crow - Talk To The One

Sunday Dinner - How I Coped

It is no secret that I am not a good cook. However much I like to watch the Food Network, like to bake, like to decorate what I bake, like to eat, I just don't cook well. Other than eggs, maybe.

When my kids were little, they would take the most beautifully decorated treats into their classrooms for their birthday parties, but then they might come home to eat over-cooked meatloaf, under-done baked potatoes and a side of canned corn. I would give cooking "the old college try," with the goal of offering protein, fruit, vegetable, grain, dairy and limited fats, but somehow, it just didn't look/taste like my mom's meals. But they lived. And they learned to appreciate cafeteria food.

But I can make a fabulous long-haired puppy cake or giant decorated cookies on a stick with people's names on them.



Anyway, I think most people enjoy doing what they're good at and the converse (That's not the right word. Help me, people, I'm on Benadryl.) of that. Thus: I don't enjoy cooking.

Last night, however, I spent nearly 4 hours in the kitchen preparing Sunday's meal: Cubed steaks for the crock pot, peeling and quartering potatoes for mashed potatoes, chopping and assembling a giant salad, deviling eggs and mixing Oreo Dirt Pudding.

Guess what? The experience wasn't that horrible. The reason? It finally occurred to me use my newly-inherited-from-my-daughter Ipod while I slaved in the kitchen.

Ohmygosh. Time flies when you're working with Tom Petty, Maroon 5, The Spinners, REO, Duffy, The Jackson 5, George Michael, Nora Jones, Joan Jett and John Mellencamp.

Thank you, my new best kitchen friends & Ipod. You have lightened a load, put a lilt in my step (albeit an awkward step) and allowed me to sing loudly without hearing myself. Of course, there was that one moment when I let an Aretha-worthy note fly, and Jorge, asleep on the couch, jerked, knocked the remote onto the wooden floor and jumped about four feet.

Anyway, my playlist made time in the kitchen fly. This is nothing short of miraculous.

And in honor of this momentous discovery, I had so much energy and "lilt" that I created a new mac and cheese dish in honor of Rob Thomas: "Pepper Jack Mac."

Who are you listening to currently?

My Answers to This Week's Random Dozen

1. Do you prefer even or odd numbers? Any particular reason?

Even, because they're divisible. Anything to make math one tiny bit easier, please.

2. On a scale of 1-10, with 1 being "not at all" and 10 being Carly Simon-worthy, how vain are you?

I'd say 8 because I grew up in an environment where appearances are of the utmost importance. It will be a long time, if ever, when I can completely overcome that.

3. Among these Irish stereotypes, with which do you identify most closely? Talkative, Proud, Inquisitive, Love to party, Hot-tempered

Inquisitive. Last night my husband criticized me because I cannot even hear a joke and not try to figure out why it was so funny to me. Pride is probably just as strong a force, unfortunately.

4. How lucky do you consider yourself?

My mom avers that one of my brothers and I are lucky. I have no idea how she developed this theory. Perhaps I won "Pin the Tail on the Donkey" and the potato race back to back at a couple of birthday parties when I was little. I did win a wedding sweepstakes right before I got married, but that's about it. However, if my mom wants to think I'm lucky, then I see no harm in that delusion.

5. What is the subject of your favorite post that you've written?

Clinton Kelly and Dave Barry. And maybe the kids.

6. Describe March weather where you live in three words.

Slushy, unpredictable, phony (trying to be Spring, but never quite makes the cut.)

7. How apt are you at detecting blarney when you hear it? (Smooth talk, flattery)

Pretty good. I used to be gullible but not anymore. There is someone on FB who flatters me all the time, but I'm onto her now. Now I am cracking up thinking, "'Onto her' as in 'Hey, do ya have anything you want to say to me today?'" Just because I know it's blarney doesn't mean I can't stand to hear it once in a while!

8. How "green" are you, environmentally speaking?

Um, purple. Or anything but green. Sorry.

9. What is your favorite song this week?














"Mercy," by Duffy. I just discovered her music lately, and I'm about to sicken myself with it because I'm replaying it so much. Can't help it. She also does "Warwick Avenue" and "Scared," which I love, love, love.

10. You are walking along and see a coin on the ground. What denomination does it have to be before you will stop to pick it up?

Dime. Am I cheap?

11. Complete the sentence: "Every time I look outside my window ...."

"I can't wait to put on my shoes and go running for the first time in months!"

12. What was the #1 song on the day you were born? See this site to find out.

"Sherry" by the Four Seasons. 1962.

If this doesn't make you sing "yeah, yeah, yeah," I don't think you have a pulse.

News-Breaking Post: You're So Vain, Carly

I'm just a little ... verklempt. For those of you who don't speak Yiddish like I do from my Pennsylvania Dutch background, that means, "choked with emotion."

People -- I know there's a lot of serious, gut-wrenching news going on lately. But amidst the tsunami in Hawaii and earthquake in Chile comes a news report that has former hippies everywhere tapping the "back" button on their DVRs to hear this once again:

CARLY SIMON FINALLY REVEALS THE SUBJECT OF "YOU'RE SO VAIN."

Yes, apparently, on a new recording she whispers the name "David" somewhere in the song. You can play it backwards; you can play it forwards, but either way, it sounds like Gollum spilling the beans to me. Listen and tell me what you think:

creepy soundbite

Then came the speculation about who "David" could be. In the last 24 hours, the consensus was that "David" is David Geffen, who was head of Carly's record label back in 1972. Apparently, if this theory is true, Carly was put out by Geffen's lack of attention toward her career compared to his enthusiastic promotion of Joni Mitchell's.

Can you say, "Anti-climactic?"

However, today we are learning why David could not have been THAT David. See this Gather news article for the details about the rebuttal.

In a nutshell, the fact that Geffen is a homosexual does not help the "Geffen is the David" campaign.

Can this story get any more riveting?

Only if I throw in MY two cents.

First of all, a few days ago, I was listening to the radio when YSV came on.

"My goodness," I said in my middle aged voice to no one, "That is the ultimate American pop song. It never ages. The theme is timeless: scorned lover strikes back. Her searing, clever lyrics are way better than keying a car for revenge. The music is great. I must buy this song immediately and put it on my Ipod machine next to all of my other ancient golden oldies."

Which I did.

Have you ever noticed that when you listen to a quality stereo or wear ear buds that you hear things you never heard through your 1972 black transistor radio with the vinyl cover that had 100 tiny holes in it?

For instance, I never knew that Carly whispers "Son of a gun" at the beginning of the song. Did you?

And I always thought the word that follows "You had one eye in the mirror as you watched yourself ..." was "go by," but it's "gavotte," which means "prancy little French dance." OUCH. Good one, Carly.

Finally, I never knew the harmony was by someone other than Carly. Google tells me it was Mick Jagger.

MICK JAGGER? Wasn't he one of the contenders for the subject of the song? Wouldn't singing back up disqualify him? But wait--Doesn't Mick GAVOTTE all over a stage when he performs? Yes he does! See exhibits A,B,C and D:










Oh, wait a minute. That last one is not Mick, is it.

Anyway, my head was spinning.

And then just a few days later, this David story breaks.

Do I have my finger on the pulse of useless pop news, or what?!

As I researched the articles to write this post (Hey, that's what professional bloggers do, and I'm a professional blogger, only I don't get paid) I realized the great irony of it all:

The longer Carly keeps us waiting with Anticipation for the revelation of the YSV protagonist, the more we talk about her. The more the song is about HER.

She keeps us in the dark because she knows we will keep talking about her for another 38 years! Is that not the HEIGHT of vanity??

Carly--are you so very vain?

If not, then just tell us, already!

PS: The very latest word on "David" is ... Bowie. Could be. He could certainly gavotte around, too.

Question: Without naming names (just like Carly) is there a "gavotter" in your past? One for whom this song could have been written?

As for me ... yes, there certainly was. He "gave away the things he loved, and one of them was me." And if he's reading this post, he probably thinks this post is about him. :)

Top Five Stalker Songs

I was thinking the other day about when my kids first heard "Every Breath You Take." They said, "That's weird. It's like a stalker song."

Pretty astute for two and four year olds.

Just kidding.

So I compiled a short list of "stalker songs," all of which I like but one. Here they are in increasing intensity of stalker content.

5. I've Got My Mind Set On You by George Harrison. Mainly because of the percussion, this song is a great example of the old American Bandstand recommendation: "It's got a good beat, and I can dance to it." Not many unique words in it, but we'll get to that later.

I got my mind set on you
I got my mind set on you
But it's gonna take money
A whole lotta spending money
It's gonna take plenty of money
To do it right child
It's gonna take time
A whole lot of precious time
It's gonna take patience and time, ummm
To do it, to do it, to do it, to do it, to do it
To do it right child

This is not a love song; this is an intricate scheme plotted out for months by someone with a single focus: "You shall be mine at any cost, including my own self-respect and sanity." It could've been the theme song to "Fatal Attraction."

4. I Wear My Sunglasses at Night by Corey Hart

I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can, so I can
Watch you weave then breathe your story lines
And I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can, so I can
Keep track of visions in my eyes

That last line makes absolutely no sense. But I wear my sunglasses at night, too, when I listen to this song because I'm embarrassed for anyone to know that I'm listening to it, but I do like it.

3. Private Eyes by OATES & HALL. I had to search high and low to find a pic of Oates on the left and Hall on the right, but I found it, because just once I want to say, here's "Oates and Hall!"

You cant escape my
Private eyes
They're watching you
They see your every move
Private eyes
They're watching you
Private eyes
They're watching you watching you watching you watching you

If you read that last line out loud, it will totally creep you out, but somehow it all seems OK when Hall & Oates are doing the stalking.

2. If I Was Invisible by Clay Aiken. The neglect of the subjunctive "were" in the title really bugs me, by the way. This irritation is surpassed only by the weirdness of the entire song.

I wish I could be
A fly on your wall
Are u really alone
Whose stealin' your dreams ...
If I was invisible
Then I could just watch you in your room ...
Saw your face in the crowd
I call out your name
You don't hear a sound
I keep tracing your steps
Each move that you make
Wish I could read
What goes through your mind Oh baby
Wish I could touch me
With the colours of your life

OK, this whole song is bizarro, but the highlighted phrases prove this goes beyond what craziness most stalkers will even admit to. And what those last two lines are about I don't know, but they made me make the "ew" face. Can you guess this is the one I don't like? And doesn't this pic make Clay look as though he is morphing into Daryl Hall?


1. Every Breath You Take by The Police. I'm not even going to print any lyrics here because every word is stalk-driven. When Jorge and I were in college, Every Breath was popular (#1 for 8 weeks in 1983). The comic "Bloom County" ran in our school newspaper. One edition featured Opus the penguin singing this song with alternative lyrics such as:

Every leaf you rake
Every fish you bake
Every pen you take
Every leg you break
I'll be watching you

Jorge and I were almost falling off our chairs laughing so hard. I'm talking about the crying and not breathing kind of hilarity. Now our kids laugh at US like that whenever we mess up lyrics. It's the "Opus Karma" phenomenon.

So, can you think of any songs to add to the stalker list?

In honor of one of these stalker songs, I'm including a spoof of I've Got My Mind Set On You, which, of course, is probably only funny if you know the song. And yes, this is Weird Al. You don't have to watch the whole thing to get the jist of the joke because it's as monotonous as the original song.

My Current Favorite Song And Random Dozen Feedback

Random Dozen Feedback:

I'm spending my blogging time today catching up with the last 25 of you. I'm enjoying this meme immensely, but it's wearing me out!

Here are some observations I've noted while reading:

The English teacher is by far the most influential/favorite.

You guys are so funny about how to tell when you're getting older. I should compile these and start a stand-up routine.

But most of you show your age by replying that you do not text, or if you do, it takes you a week to send a message, and even then it's not guaranteed to get where it needs to be. Funny!

Yellow appears to be the most-cited favorite color.

Most of you do celebrate Halloween, with the reservation of no evil stuff.

You all want to be a "suburban mouse," even though that wasn't an option.

Apparently, you are all the life of the party. Can you imagine if I got you all in one room? Party central!

The naming of the star thing is similar, I think, to adopting a highway. Your money goes toward funding (probably sending Koalas into space or something like that) but you get the "romance" of the notion. You either get this, or you don't, it would seem.

So have a great weekend--if I haven't been around to see you, I'm on my way!


Favorite current song:

If you have not heard "Say Hey, I Love You," then it is time. WARNING: It will stick. All day.

I Gotta Feelin' : Monday Morning Fun & Fall Into Flavor

Yeah, I'm all excited. Yesterday was Hall & Oates' appearance on Private Sessions on A&E. I liked it a lot, except in one interview session, the host, Lynn Hoffman, brought up the moniker "Blue Eyed Soul," and Daryl Hall talked about how terribly racist it is and how he hates it.

Oops.

I had no idea that was a racist remark. I can only say that when I first heard it, I thought it was a very cool and descriptive phrase. So if I offended anybody who reads here, I apologize. The racist implication went totally over my head. Sorry, Daryl Hall and John Oates and all soul artists everywhere, although I'm sure you're not waiting for an apology from a blogger mom in a small town in Indiana. But I wanted to get that off my chest.

Now I suppose Donny Osmond is going to tell us he hates purple.

Anyway.

It's the 2nd installation of Fall Into Flavor PLUS this amazing video.

Little tangent: One of the fun things about my girls is their playfulness when it comes to music. Yes, the one who hates musicals, me, happened to birth daughters who have a penchant for bursting into song and dance without warning.


















So the other day, Kristin, the high schooler, pulled into the drive and sat there. Immediately, her older sister, Katie, pulled in, observed Kristin and realized that she was listening and singing to the same song as she was (the song in the video below).

So the song ends, each girl gets out of her car, and they continue dancing and singing on the driveway.

Insert Mom-smile here.

Their favorite part to sing is "Fill up my cup--draaaaaaank!" No, not drink, but draaaaaaaank.

How I love my two brunette musical stylists. "Brunette soul?" Oh no. I shouldn't have gone there.



Here are 20,00 people dancing in syncopated waves. Amazing.





Here's my submission for this week. I Gotta Feelin' you'll like it:

Butter Pecan Cake

1 butter pecan cake mix
4 eggs
1 c. milk
3/4 c. oil
1 can coconut-pecan frosting (or you could make from scratch, you show-off)

Oven 350*. Grease bundt pan well.
Mix cake mix, eggs, oil & milk for 2 minutes.
By hand, stir in the can of frosting into the mix.
Pour, bake for 45-55 minutes.
You can toothpick test, but this is a very moist, dense cake due to the frosting in the mix.
Cool 10 mins. in pan, then remove.

Jesus Messiah

This song was on my mind all week and then someone posted this vid on FB.

Oh-h Here They Come ... It's Hall & Oates on A&E!!

So let's revisit the whole Hall & Oates discussion because heaven knows I haven't mentioned them lately on this blog.

Point 1: They are awesome.

Point 2: In 1976, they released their first break-out hit "Sara Smile," and nine months later, hundreds of little baby girls were named Sara-without-an-"h." Yes, their music is that good.

Point 3: They're still making great music after all these years, reinterpreting songs they must have performed thousands of times.

I mean, can you imagine reinterpreting anything already really good, like luscious chocolate for instance, thousands upon thousands of times and still leave the public cheering for more?

Which brings us back to Point 1.

End of discussion.

And now the announcement:

According to A&E's website, the production called Private Sessions showcases exclusive performances and conversations with top names in contemporary music and film. Hosted by Lynn Hoffman in an intimate loft setting, each Sunday morning at 9 am EST, Private Sessions dedicates each hour to the body of work of a single artist or group, featuring not only current releases but also the projects that defined and built careers.

Guess who's on this week?

That's right--This Sunday, October 25th at 9am ONLY ON A&E'S PRIVATE SESSIONS: Best selling pop duo Daryl Hall & John Oates join us in the studio for exclusive performances of their classic hits: "Maneater," "Sara Smile," "She's Gone," "Say It Isn't So," and "It's a Laugh." Don't miss their in-depth interview with host Lynn Hoffman. Plus, surprise guests Jimmy Wayne, Gym Class Heroes frontman Travis McCoy, The Bacon Brothers, and Mike Henry- the voice of Family Guy and The Cleveland Show's Cleveland!

Don't know who those other people are, but--doing the happy dance all over my house because--Hall and Oates on A&E! See? I can't even speak in full sentences!

Here's a promo video for that show, and below, another to get us in the mood for some of that timeless Blue Eyed Soul.


Hall & Oates Behind Scenes on A&E's Private Sessions

Lynn Hoffman | MySpace Video

Who are Hall and Oates? What is Wrong With You.

OK, people. I've had about enough of your Hall and Oates illiteracy. Come out of your comas and get your diplomas. Wake up and smell the "Blue-eyed Soul."

Yes, it's true that when I first started talking about Hall and Oates to my then teenagers, they had no clue who/what H&O are.

"Hauling Oats?"
"Holland Oats?"
"Hauling Goats?"

I thought I would bust a gasket, whatever that means. Clearly, I had not done my job as a mom (or blogger) by not introducing them (and you) to one of the most prolific 80s music writer/performers, whose careers have lasted literally for decades, from the 70s to now.

But every time one of you says, "I don't know who that is," I want to say, "What is wrong with you people? Are all of my blog readers 12 years old?"

I never realized, in younger years, how much I actually enjoyed their music, until one day I started mentally listing all of their songs that I always listen to completion on the radio.

And then I bought CDs.

And then I bought concert tickets a couple of years ago. I had not bought a concert ticket since the 80s. That's how BIG this was to me.

And then ... just when Hall and Oates were about to "make my dreams come true, ooh-ooh, ooh-oo, ooh-ooh" Daryl Hall contracted Lyme Disease and they had to cancel concerts.

Lyme Disease? Yep, and pretty serious, too, evidently.

Daryl Hall Lyme Disease Interview - Watch more Videos at Vodpod.

Since then, the duo has never been back around this area.

So I'm starting to think Lyme Disease was an excuse not to see me, Daryl Hall. Because I've learned that most things in life are about me.

Anyway, here is a short list of songs. I know that you're going to slap yourself upside the head in recognition:

Sara Smile
She's Gone
You Make My Dreams
Private Eyes
I Can't Go For That
Rich Girl
One on One
Say It Isn't So
Out of Touch
Kiss on My List (the quintessential Oates back-up "la-la" song)
Maneater

I was going to say which is my favorite, but I just can't. Special fondness for "Rich Girl" "Can't Go for That" and "Kiss."

One of the well-known aspects of the group is that Daryl Hall almost always sings lead, and John Oates almost always sings "Ooh" and "La" and other echoing phrases. Many have joked that this is a point of contention between them. Apparently not, since they've been playing together since the 70s.

People love to do parodies of Hall and Oates, including a political SNL skit last Fall. Not sure how Hall and Oates feel about the parodies, but I think they're great.

And then there's this one from "Psych," which my family loves. You have to watch a 30 second ad before the parody, if you're interested.



At any rate, I hope I have answered the question "Who are Hall and Oates" adequately because I never want to hear that question again from you.

Here's the real deal, in all of the 80s glory. Trivia: Which Julia Roberts movie features "Maneater" on the soundtrack?

What I'm Currently Faving

First of all, thanks to all of you who offered opinions yesterday on laundry room decor. That was fun for me. Let me know if I can ever return the favor. I think I know a color/theme, but I'm keeping it under wraps until the big reveal. Fun!

And for the record, I like the wrinkly Rupert, too. Which is a sentence I never, ever expected to say for any reason whatsoever in my life, but there it is: "I like the wrinkly Rupert."


Each Friday, Susanne at Living To Tell the Story invites us to share a list of ... join me now, Julie Andrewses: a few of our favorite things.

If you are new to this blog, the joke is that I hate musicals, and one of my blogging buds, Dena of Green Acres made me this button during the height of Musical Madness.


Back to Friday's Fave Five. And the categories this week are:



1. Favorite Food: Fresh green beans from the garden of my friend, Cindy.



When I was a kid, we ate our haricots vert (ooh-la-la! Honh, honh, honh!) after they had simmered for hours with ham and potatoes, and then we put butter all over them. Now I like them a little crisper and greener so that you can actually tell they're beans and not just a conduit for "seasoning," otherwise known as "fat and starch."


Honh, honh. I make zee joke.

2. Favorite exercise: Ball Hamstring Curl. This exercise is kicking my derriere.

(Image from Fit Sugar)

But it's so worth it because now I look like this:









3. Favorite movie I've seen lately:



There is one spot that contains bad language near the beginning of the movie; after that, it's a clean, funny movie. I love Ricky Gervais AND Greg Kinnear (a Hoosier). Ricky Gervais plays the museum curator in Night at the Museum, and he wrote or produced or somethinged the BBC's "The Office." Greg Kinnear is rottenly cute as he was in Sabrina. No one does "the cad" like Greg Kinnear.

4. Favorite gift-blessing of the week:

These beautiful hand-crafted cards from my blogging friend and Co-Lid, Linda at A Merry Heart, given to me for no reason at all except to bless me, and I promise you, I appeared to be very blessed as I opened the box and saw the sweetness. Even my 22 year-old girl said, "I want to make these!" Thank you, Merry Lid!


5. Favorite song this week and maybe one of my all-time favorite videos ever:



Have a wonderful weekend; I'm going to Lake Tippecanoe with my girlfriends!