Song Pick: Crazy Love

I came across this song the other day and I can't seem to stop listening. It is by an artist named Jason Manns that I haven't heard of before but I liked the laid back style of the song. It just felt a bit like summer to me. 

What do you think?

Love to Order

I was driving home Saturday night from dinner with friends and I was listening to Showtune Saturday Night on a local radio station. I love show tunes because they make me bust out in song. That is why I listen to them best when I'm alone. No need to frighten small children or unsuspecting adults. I've always loved songs with stories and show tunes are the ultimate representation of a story-song. And I'm a sucker for a really great story so, I make sure to turn on the show tunes every Saturday night and sing my heart out. 

This night the number one song on Showtune Saturday Night was "Taylor, the Latte Boy" even though it isn't a true show tune. But it does have a built-in love story that is charming and easy to follow, especially when sung by the multi-talented, platinum-blonde, Broadway star Kristine Chenoweth. I haven't been able to get it out of my head all weekend and I've listened to it over and over again. My favorite line is  

I used to be the kind of girl
Who'd run when love rushed toward her.
Till finally a voice whispered, "Love can be yours,
If you step up to the counter and order.

I like this Youtube video with Miss Chenoweth singing but I actually like her voice a lot better on this recording. So, listen to both or one, but at least take a listen.

Wouldn't it be nice if it were that easy? My order would go something like this:  tall, dark and handsome; spiritual, but hold the fanatical; funny, but hold the flatulence jokes;  intelligent, but hold the ego; with a side order of will-take-me-to-any-show-ballet-or-theater-without-gritting-his-teeth. 

Yes, that would be nice. 

But when you are not a made-to-order kind of girl it is hard to find your own made-to-order kind of guy. Which makes Mr. Latte Boy start to look more and more attractive. He's easy to talk to, has some musical interest, and knows how to put together something that tastes delicious. Maybe what I'm missing in my life is not love, but caffeine. 

In fact, I'm beginning to wonder if my Pepsi-loving grandmother was really on to the secret of life with the sign in her kitchen that stated "put down the Pepsi and nobody gets hurt." Maybe caffeine is the elixir of love. And maybe I need to get me some of that kind of elixir. 

So, I'm thinking I could start with a cola and a lime. Oh, who am I kidding? I've got such an addictive nature that if I try it once, I will next be chugging soda by the gallon, not the ounce. So, Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome? You and I are going to have to meet some other way. 

And know that while our love story may not be "so caffeinated," I'd certainly like it if we could both manage to "step up to the counter and order" before too much more time passes.

 

Symphonic Sound

I heard the symphony play the other night at our local outdoor theater. I'd had a busy day, a busy week, and I was overtired. It was my first free evening in days and all I wanted to do was go home, put on my nubbiest cotton pjs and climb in bed for a blissful 12 hours. But very little will keep me away from the symphony and the magical, blissful sounds that emanate from their instruments.

When it comes to the five senses, hearing seems to be my most acute sense. Touch is right up there with hearing, then sight, then taste, then smell. No, I don't have the most powerful nose on the planet, but I do have a friend with such frightful ability to sniff out funky smells that I'm afraid to approach her if I have chanced to eat some garlic or even perspire in the last twenty-four hours. And I can't smell breakfast on people like one not-to-be-mentioned brother can. (Does everyone in the world have this ability besides me?)

But when it comes to hearing and sound, the gods have blessed me with copious auditory abilities. At least that is what I hear. :)

For instance, in high school and junior high, I watched siblings and friends get ready for school listening to the local radio station. I thought that was so cool. I tried it many, many times thinking if I could just listen to the same radio station that I would somehow be invested with a "coolness" factor that I felt was missing in my life. Yet, no matter how many times I tried to listen to the radio, I only ended up with a headache. The static on the radio annoyed me. I didn't like the band playing. The words of the song were nonsensical. The music made me depressed. It could have been one or all of these things, but listening to the radio for most of my life has been an exercise in frustration.

In high school, my bedroom was right next to the family room--or TV central. I don't know if it was a house with ten people, or others' poor hearing, or just simply a preference, but whenever the TV was on it seemed to be punched up to volume SUPER LOUD. And that bugged me to pieces. I couldn't sleep, concentrate, study, or even think if I could hear the TV blaring in the background. I was constantly asking people to turn down the TV. (On a sidenote, that is one of my brother-in-law Spencer's many virtues: he can watch TV with the sound almost muted. I love that about him.)

After my freshman year in college, I lived with my grandparents for the summer. Living there was a revelation to me. For the first time in my life, I lived in a house with less than six occupants. The diminished noise level was a new-found nirvana to me. I had no idea how anxious and stressed lots of noise made me previous to this summer. I couldn't believe how calm I felt. How much I learned about myself that summer. How many decisions I made for my future. And it all seemed connected to the peace and quiet that had overtaken my life. After that summer, I really started to cherish my ears and what they had been telling me my whole life: pay attention to the noise around you and cut out the bad while welcoming the good.

And some of that good sound came on my 21st birthday. My parents' took me to the symphony for that birthday. I must have requested it because I don't believe either of them had ever been. We sat clear up on the third balcony above the crowd and waited. I had no idea what to expect. I just knew that I needed to hear the symphony. And what took place for me was nearly two hours of sheer serenity. It was an orgy for my ears. I felt thrilled and devastated all at once. I never knew what such beautiful, beautiful music could do for me and I'd spent my entire life up to that point not knowing.

I vowed a vow that day to never miss such an opportunity again. (Okay, so really, the vow was more that I would make my very best effort to get to the symphony as much as possible.)

So, I prodded myself out the door on Monday night and went to listen to the symphony under the stars. I'm so happy I did. My ears sent me paroxsyms of delight.

LISTENING: Feels Like Home

This is an older song but a good one. I've heard it before but it seemed to really hit me yesterday. The artist is Chantal Kreviazuk a Canadian singer/songwriter with an impressive list of songwriting credits to her name.

This is the anthem for the day. Just listen.

I've also posted some songs in a playlist on the side that have a real hook in me right now. I am not some great music aficionado. In this--as in most models in my life--I follow the feast-or-famine model. In other words, I will listen to the same music for weeks and weeks and weeks which turns into months and months and months. And finally years.

Then one day I do a big BLECH all over my music. I can't stand to listen to those songs one more time or I may pull out all the hair in my head. You know, one tiny root at a time.

Then I spend 16 consecutive hours looking for new music that doesn't make me want to do this very damaging thing to my fine, frizzy head of hair.

So, thank your lucky stars. Because I won't be bald in the near future.