Mission:We created Tunesday Tuesday to bring people together through music. Every Tuesday the link up is live here at DTWB and at The Patchwork Paisley, MrsTeeLoveLifeLaughter-ANDwelcoming our new permanent co-host, Beth from Structure in an Unstructured Life!
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Can't stick around for this week's party??Next week's theme will be...Random Five-OPut your iPod on shuffle.What are the first 5 songs that play?And Now...
You can't seriously be asking me to pick my favorite 80's song?
Why not ask me who my favorite parent is or which kid I like better?
Better yet, why not ask me which finger I like best and then to chop off the rest?
You might think this would be easy for an 80's fanatic such as I but oh sweet child of mine, it's like being in the land of confusion.
This year my husband threw me a SURPRISE 80's Birthday Party. It was so much fun that my group of friends still talks about it. It was so much fun that I kinda wish I could walk around life in an 80's musical. I was born in the 80's. Correction: I was born to the 80's. It owns me.
So to repeat, how could I possibly choose my favorite 80's song? Like a record, baby, right round round round I go, asking myself the same question, this eternal flame of a question, the kind that flickers in your mind slowly but steadily all day. For a week now, from 9 to 5 I've asked myself what song would be able to encapsulate all that the 80's means to me. And time after time I come up with nothing. No solid answer. When I think of one, another one pops into my mind like a Warhol begging to be remembered, shouting, "Don't you forget about me!"
I thought about asking around for help. So I asked the boys of summer, rad guys I met a few summers back through a friend of a friend. My friend, Jessie who knew this girl, they were her friends. But they weren't at all helpful, bunch of burnout karma chameleons those guys. I asked my other friend who just smiled at me like she had some secret she wouldn't share and I said, "Come on, Eileen. Help me out!" But she just turned and walked away. Next I called Jenny, she was a maneater but she was the expert on all things 80's. I dialed her number. 867-5309. No answer. Damn it! DAMN IT! I left her a message, said, "Call Me!" I could have called Jack but crazy Diane never liked me, some bizarre love triangle thing so I called Billie Jean but she was busy having baby daddy issues. Just then my cell phone rang. I hoped it was Jenny returning my call but my cell screen said
Ugh. I can't talk to this chick right now. She drives me crazy!
I started to feel lost, like someone who had one really drunk night in Bangkok, someone who has searched the world high and low, head to toe and still hasn't found what she was looking for. I searched in Africa, Down Under, this small isla bonita off the coast of Kokomo I sometimes visit. Nothing. Will I find the answer to my question anywhere? It is somewhere out there?
I was so tired of thinking about this unanswerable question that I needed a vacation, an escape and a piña colada. But the piña colada wasn't enough so I poured myself a glass of red, red wine. But even that wasn't enough so I took some bad medicine. What? Don't judge! It's my prerogative how I handle my problems. You ain't my papa. If you don't like it you could look away or stray cat strut your ass right on outta here, papa. Don't preach to me.
I'm sorry. I said that in the heat of the moment. I didn't mean it. I just feel like I'm wearing a raspberry beret driving a little red corvette down the highway to the danger zone on a manic monday and I just need to relax like Frankie said. "Stand back," he said, "STAND BACK," and just let the answer come to you but at this point, I'm just holding out for a hero because I don't think I will be able to write about anything even close to 80's song related.
I lay down and stare at the ceiling. Just then it starts to rain and my brain can't fight this feeling anymore. It wants to shut down and take a sledgehammer to these rapid thoughts. I allow myself to drift to sleep like 99 luftballoons floating to the sky without writing about my favorite 80's song. It's ok. I'll try again tomorrow.
Tonight, I'm just gonna blame it on the rain.
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