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Whatever Happened to Corey Hart?

22 Oct

The other day I was listening to my fav 80s station on Sirius Radio in my car. Yes, I’m that old. And a song from Corey Hart came on, “Never Surrender.” When I first saw this Dude in 1983 on MTV singing, “Sunglasses At Night” I just about lost my pants. He. Was. Incredibly. HOT!

Soon I found myself clipping photos of him from everywhere I could find them and sticking them on my wall. I imagined myself meeting Corey as he brought me roses and escorted me to a fancy restaurant or on his yacht in the Caribbean. We danced. We kissed. We…well, you know.

Then, as suddenly as he appeared he seemed to be gone. I think it was because I got an actual boyfriend and not an imaginary one. Corey faded into the abyss with all the other one-hit wonders of the 1980s and I never heard from him again.

So where is he now?

Well, he’s still writing songs but for people like Celine Dion, which totally makes me barf. He also got married to some chick named, Julie Masse, who is also a singer. He writes songs for her and sometimes sings duets with her. How cute. They have three kids and they live in the Bahamas. Must be nice. So he has no crazy stories about being high on cocaine, dating royalty, or going to rehab. Corey Hart turned out to be a regular guy who has bad taste (ummm, Celine Dion. YUCK!).

I wouldn’t turn him away though if he showed up at my house wearing sunglasses at night.

The Music Plays for No One

1 Jun

People like to think that once you find your soul mate, everything else automatically works itself out. Most likely you will find that the love of your life starts doing things that are a little quirky. As time goes on, those little quirks become annoyances and later they become irritating until finally they are completely unbearable. Loving someone and living with him or her sometimes seems like a mutually exclusive endeavor.

I think it was after we had been married for two years when I first noticed certain things the Hubby did that made me stop and think about them. Before that, there was virtually nothing he could do wrong. He would be on his way to the kitchen and ask me if I wanted anything. He would come home from his day and seem like he was actually happy to see me, greeting me with a big hug and kiss. He would put the seat down all the time. But slowly, as if by some gradual primeval evolutionary process, things changed. I’m not quite sure how or why it happened. He would go to make himself a snack from the kitchen, come into the living room and sit down right next to me with his treat. I would give him a look as if to say, “Hey, I’m hungry. I’d like a snack too,” and he wouldn’t even notice. I’d have to sigh or huff and puff for him to pay attention to me but he’d just look at me and say, “What?” Or he’d come home from work and go straight to our closet, change his clothes, then flip the T.V. on without even saying hello to me. Maybe I started taking him for granted too, but we’re not talking about me here.

When we first met, we would often go to his apartment and listen to his music. The Hubby is a music fanatic and collects it like someone would troll dolls. I think he has over ten million songs on his iTunes. He’s got everything from Barry Manilow and John Denver to Metallica and Disturbed and everything in between. It’s always bizarre to listen to “Sunshine” by John Denver and go to “10,000 Fists in the Air” by Disturbed in one click. I used to think he was so eclectic and worldly with his wide variety of musical tastes. It was part of his charm, until I lived with him. Not only does he listen to some of the most annoying music on the planet, but he also has to have it blasting throughout the house, neighborhood, and city. We’ll be getting ready for dinner and he’ll put on “Breaking the Law” by Judas Priest on so loud, I can actually feel Rob Halford breathing in between notes. I try to tell The Hubby to turn it down but he doesn’t hear me. I have to start acting out what I’m trying to communicate to him and he doesn’t understand. He just thinks I’m getting violently ill. Finally, I walk over to the stereo and turn it down and he gives me a, “What’d you do that for?” I try to calmly and politely tell him that I’d like to enjoy my meal rather than get a week’s worth of heartburn. He’ll think I just don’t like the song he selected, which I don’t but then he’ll put on something by Air Supply that makes me even more nauseous and I’ll tell him I’m not hungry anymore.

It doesn’t just happen at home. He carries his obsession with his music wherever he goes. When we’re in the car, he’s got to have his iPod with the connector thing that plays it in our car. I’ve learned that I’m not allowed to play any music I like in the car because it’s too pedestrian and mainstream. He has to play some musical rock opera about Satan’s children with lots of flute or some drippy love song by a bleeding heart singer/song writer. What’s wrong with pedestrian and mainstream? At least it doesn’t give me a migraine or an upset stomach. The worst is when we’re on a road trip and we’re stuck in the car for hours listening to a musak version of “Baby Got Back” or the whole album of a very bad space rock band’s interpretation of medieval science fiction. We’ll stop at a gas station after four hours and me and the children will run into the convenience store asking if they have a hammer so we can use it to smash daddy’s iPod.

The Hubby even takes his beloved iPod to bed with him to listen to as he falls asleep. On several occasions I’ve had to remind him to turn the volume down because I can hear the singer screaming out lyrics like, “You f*cker, come on and get down with the sickness!” I ask him how he can listen to thrash metal while he’s trying to fall asleep and he’ll tell me that it helps him calm his mind. I wonder, if that helps him calm his mind what the heck is he thinking about? Maybe I don’t want to know. A few times I’ve actually listened to his song selection on his iPod and could only stand it for two maybe three songs. I mean, going from Eminem to Captain and Tennile to Kenny Rogers, and then Rage Against the Machine would make most people really pissed off, jubilant, and depressed all at the same time.

If that’s not bad enough, the Hubby will turn on the stereo in the living room, full blast, of course, and then leave the room for hours. Usually, I’ll come in to the guitar solo or the drum solo and look around for him. He’s not there, and neither is anyone else for that matter. I’ll finally find him outside mowing the law or organizing the garage and ask, “Why is the music on if you’re out here?” He’ll typically tell me that he was going to come back in after he finished whatever he was doing. Sometimes that could be an in-depth session of going through his old comic book collection which could last for hours. Meanwhile, the music is blasting to an empty room. Or he’ll go into the garage to work out or do something with his tools and he’ll turn on the stereo out there, because he has to have music wherever he goes. He has it tuned to his favorite radio station, “The Bone.” Then he’ll come back into the house and watch TV. I’ll go to the laundry room to empty the dryer and hear weird noises coming from the garage and once again the music is playing for no one. Well, sometimes the cats go in the garage so they are being traumatized for hours by the Hubby’s blasting music.

What once made him seem eclectic and worldly now drives me crazy. If I had known the full extent of his obsession with music, I probably would have found some way to accidentally catch his CD collection on fire while we were dating. I would still have married him though. He does have a few songs in his collection that I actually like and when he plays them we’ll sometimes dance. Any man willing to dance with his wife in the living room to Duran Duran is definitely a keeper.

Ice Ice Baby

16 Apr

The other day while driving the kids to a Taekwondo, Dance, Art, or Spanish class (I forget which), the infamous faux-white-rap-guy-stolen-riff song “Ice Ice Baby” came on the radio. As much as I hate this song, I can’t help but bop my head to the beat. The kids did the same thing in the back seat. Soon my 4 year-old son was singing to the chorus. That was when my 7 year-old daughter asked me:

“Mommy, why is he saying ‘ice, ice baby?’ Does he want some ice in his drink?”

*bursting out laughing* I responded, “No sweetie. He’s singing about himself. That’s his name.”

“His Mom named him Ice?”

*laughing again* I said, “No his name is Vanilla Ice.”

“Vanilla Ice?! Why did his Mom name him that? That’s a weird name!”

*can’t stop laughing, trying to breathe* “That’s his stage name, honey. You know like Hannah Montana is Miley Cyrus’ name when she performs.”

“Oh. He must really like Vanilla.”

Meanwhile my son is singing, “Ice Ice Baby” in his little voice.

By the way, did you know that Vanilla Ice’s given name is Robert Matthew Van Winkle? With a name like “Van Winkle” it’s no wonder he changed it. Maybe I should tell my daughter.

Hello Goodbye

12 Apr

You say yes, I say no
You say stop and I say go, go, go
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don’t know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don’t know why you say goodbye
I say hello

I say high, you say low
You say why, and I say I don’t know
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don’t know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don’t know why you say goodbye
I say hello

Why, why, why, why, why, why
Do you say good bye
Goodbye, bye, bye, bye, bye

Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don’t know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don’t know why you say goodbye
I say hello
hello, hello
I don’t know why you say goodbye I say hello
Hello

Hela, heba helloa
Hela, heba helloa

Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah!!!

19 Feb

I have had this song in my head for WEEKS!!! I had no idea who sang it or what the name was, and it was driving me insane! I kept walking around the house singing, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!!” The Hubby remembered the song vaguely from the 80s. With all his music knowledge, he couldn’t help me. My kids started singing it with me, even though they secretly thought I was loosing my mind.

Then, I Googled the crap out of all those Yeahs. It was only when I went KROQ, the radio station I listened to incessantly as a teenager, that I found it.

Are you ready? Okay Peeps, I give you, DEVO!

Is Anybody Else Sick of These Guys?

22 Apr


If I see another Jonas Brother, I’m gonna hurl! These guys make me sick. You know that in about 5 years one of them will be living on the streets strung out on Meth, one will come out of the closet and tell the world he’s gay and probably marry Clay Aiken, and the last one will become a producer of pornos.

I guess these guys are just the next evolution of the nauseating boy-band phenomenon. They come from a long line of lame-o bands such as:

Menudo
New Kids on the Block
Hansen

98 Degrees
Nsync

I guess it’s like the circle of life. When one dumb ass boy-band bites the dust another one is created. I just wish we could wipe them all out like we did the Dodo bird.

It’s A Beautiful Day

17 Apr
The heart is a bloom
Shoots up through the stony ground
There’s no room
No space to rent in this town

You’re out of luck
And the reason that you had to care
The traffic is stuck
And you’re not moving anywhere

You thought you’d found a friend
To take you out of this place
Someone you could lend a hand
In return for grace

It’s a beautiful day
Sky falls, you feel like
It’s a beautiful day
Don’t let it get away

You’re on the road
But you’ve got no destination
You’re in the mud
In the maze of her imagination

You love this town
Even if that doesn’t ring true
You’ve been all over
And it’s been all over you

It’s a beautiful day
Don’t let it get away
It’s a beautiful day

Touch me
Take me to that other place
Teach me
I know I’m not a hopeless case

See the world in green and blue
See China right in front of you
See the canyons broken by cloud
See the tuna fleets clearing the sea out
See the Bedouin fires at night
See the oil fields at first light
And see the bird with a leaf in her mouth
After the flood all the colors came out

It was a beautiful day
Don’t let it get away
Beautiful day

Touch me
Take me to that other place
Reach me
I know I’m not a hopeless case

What you don’t have you don’t need it now
What you don’t know you can feel it somehow
What you don’t have you don’t need it now
Don’t need it now
Was a beautiful day

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