Decisiveness is not one of my traits. Just ask the hubby. Pasta or chicken for dinner? Rent this DVD or this DVD? Frozen margarita or on the rocks?
Back in 1987 when he and I met and would go on hot dates in his equally hot red Toyota Starlet that reeked of Polo cologne and my hair spritz, I would surf radio stations like nobody’s business, seeking out the perfect song, whether it be by U2 or INXS or the Beastie Boys or Janet Jackson. And it didn’t scare him away…the radio surfing…not my taste in music or big hair. Because you must have the perfect music as the soundtrack to cruise McDonalds in Small Town USA. Back in the 80s teenagers didn’t text each other to find out whose parents were out of town for the weekend. We communicated the old fashioned way, via telephone and the SCENT OF FREE BEER that would bring teenagers from miles around to your doorstep, or the bed of your truck if it was a field party.
Fast forward to 2006. Here’s a snippet of my random running mental commentary as I flipped from radio station to radio station to radio station while en route to the pediatrician’s office late Monday with Amelia because, frankly, she’s too young to complain or tell me that I’m a dork.
Here ya go…
Generic Top 40 Station #1
London Bridge by Fergie
“Gawd this freakin’ song sucks. Is she trying to sound like Gwen Stefani? Fergie go back to Black Eyed Peas.”
Generic Top 40 Station #2
Promiscious Girl by Nelly Furtado and some dude unknown to me
“Oh I like this song, but I probably shouldn’t listen to it in front of the girls. Favorite line… Girl I’m a freak you shouldn’t say those things.”
Some generic love song by Nick Lachey
“This song sounds just like his first release. Sorry Nick!”
Country Station #1
Some Keith Urban tune
“I just can’t get into Aussie man singing country. I wonder if he and Nicole Kidman are really moving to Nashville?”
Country Station #2
Some old Shania Twain song (wait, aren’t they all old?)
“Why isn’t there ANYTHING DECENT on the radio?”
Back to Generic Top 40 Station #2
Sexy Back by Justin Timberlake
“Oh I looooove this song. (Cranks it up.) I can’t believe I like a JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE song.”
When Caitlin’s in the car she still requests Bon Jovi, but when mama and baby sister are together we listen to Radio Spaz Mommy. I really should burn a few CDs or get satellite radio, but there’s some sort of escapism in listening to cheesie top 40 radio and singing as loud as I can, because for about .2 seconds I feel like a teenager cruising town (only I’m 37, with two carseats in the back, and a sidekick that poops in her pants.)