I've been in a Virgin Suicides kind of mood lately. A sort of ELO, Carpenters, gold microphone, bad hair mood. A dreamy middle child in a 1970s suburban development mood.
This is basically the last of the walls to fall when it comes to my ideas about things I will and will not do. I don't care!
A few years ago, a friend and I decided to start a band. I told her we should start a Chad & Jeremy and/or Peter & Gordon cover band called Brittany & Anita. She was game - she had a maraca - and we eagerly planned to really annoyingly explore this development during a long winter weekend at her place in New Mexico.
So on a beautifully cold November weekend at the feet of the Sandias, I queued a playlist and told her, Here's the shit you gotta learn to play, bro.
I played "I Go to Pieces" or something, and she froze. Then screamed, "Oldies? I HATE OLDIES!" WHAT, I screamed back, hands flying around my face in horror. "That's what Chad & Jeremy is!" "I didn't know!" she screamed. We just stared at each other in silent remonstrance, both disappointed.
And as amused as I am by her wild hatred of "oldies" and all sentimental music, I dissolved the band.
So I'm not going to send this playlist to her, because somehow I feel this is so much worse in her book than the Everlys or Peter & Gordon could ever be.
This Todd Rundgren song is one of my mom's favorite songs of all time, and ELO is probably her actual favorite band of all time.
I finally kind of get it.