Free My Mind...Just Free My Mind

          A Song Which Reflects Your Opinion On The Weather.

          The weather, in today's category, is a metaphor.  It could have been anything beyond our control; chicken little's non-upcoming apocalypse, solidly proven quantum factoids, the flowering myth of world-wide social equality—anything at all—I just chose weather because it's global (omnipresent), powerful (omnipotent), and everyone has an opinion about it (omnipinint).  (Not to be confused with omnipaninint...the burgeoning trend of selling every sandwich on earth with grill lines.)

          Feels Like Heaven by Urban Cookie Collective is my metaphorical answer.

          But wait.

          Why then, does my answer seem meteorological in nature?

          I thought that would be obvious from the tone, young grasshopper.

          Whether you're too vain to understand metaphors or your brain can only interpret all the information your senses send to it in such an extremely straightforward manner that you're unable to (free your mind) stop fixating on the weathervane, the answer is still the same.

          There is no spoon.

          It's never just a foot massage.

          When you're chewing on life's gristle, don't grumble, give a whistle.

Day 29:  A Favorite Talk Song

The Prodigal Song

    Today's category:  A Song That Reminds You of a Favorite Film.

          Sample-quotes from two favorite films are within my favorite Chi-AD song Monsters.

          The first sample-quote, from Aliens (1986), is a conversation between Newt and Ripley:  "Mommy said there weren't bad monsters—not real ones—but there are."  "Yes there are aren't there?"  "Why do they tell little kids that?"  "Most of the time it's true."


          The second is from The Usual Suspects (1995).  Kobayashi, the lawyer, saying, "One cannot be betrayed if one has no people."

           I jogged to this song my last three years of military service; its tempo was perfect to set a strong initial pace.  Upon retirement, I left the running, bathroom scale, uniforms, alarm clock, barber, and uncountable miscellaneous items and routines behind; this song became forgotten on my jogging playlist.  I'm quite pleased this has reminded me of it.  Enough to kill a fatted clef.

Day 28 - Song Which Reminds You of the Weather

Sunday's on the phone to Monday

          A Quirky Song You Admire, But Can't Put Your Finger On Why; everybody has at least one rollin' around back there like a three-legg'd puppy in a truck-bed bouncin' along a washboard road.  When you think about it, faster than you can say Bob's yer uncle, you'll give-n-get a smirk with that inside-to-your-ownself smile.
       
                    but, even if you seriously try
                    to concentrate on all the why
                    n' all the way t' Kokomo pry
                    'til unwrapped-present sighs
                    Go figure 

          I'm not cheating.  Mine is The Sun King et al. by The Beatles.  Technically five songs, but not in reality (no more than side-one of Dark Side of the Moon should be listened to as five stand-alone songs).  Those who say otherwise ...well... they're as wrong as blue soy turducken and should spin that-there dial back to their fav pop station lickedy-split.*
       
          I admire The Sun King et al. because...

• whimsical non-words and alliterative phrases abound
• my bona fide fy-ants is named Pam
• I'm a retired police officer 
• my favorite condiment is mustard
• Tuesday's on the phone to me (oh yeah)                  

      *Where else can you find this concise of a sentence containing one hyphenated Americanism, three correctly used homophones, two abbreviated popular slang terms, one three-word malapropism (using a real 3-bird American meal to supplant a politically incorrect adage about homosexuals)?

Day 27:  A Song That Reminds You of a Favorite Film

From a Distance This Ain't No Meme

          My category for this 25^th day of MySoLiMo is A Song You Enjoy From Your Least-Listened-To Genre.

          In all fairness, this is slightly similar to day 14's title from the original meme (which I abandoned a few weeks back because most of those titles were befuddlingly redundant and immature).  The little girl's title was A Song That No One Would Expect You To Love.  I criticized it a little already, so I'll just explain why mine is superior.  Her verbiage is too restrictive.  Readers who ponder it are discouraged when they try-on different songs (in their mental dressing room) and discover none of them fit; either they don't love it, someone on the planet knows them well-enough, or the concept of song expectations is off-putting.  My category relies on the simple assumption that everyone has at least one music genre they rarely listen to, but, can still identify an enjoyable song from.

          I'm not proud of my prejudices.  They aren't a characteristic I routinely discuss (with fingers or voice).  My strongest prejudice comes in the form of a sincere disdain for those who proudly enjoy and embrace their own ignorance.  It's easier to describe the behavior of these people from a distance.  They live in America's rural south—in Texas and Georgia and all the sad states in-between.  They enjoy watching cars race around in a circle, wearing impractical costumes, driving impractical vehicles and being hypocrites (reveling in the inherited-hatred of those who differ from them in thought, appearance, or deed...which they blithely rationalize as the will of their creator).

          Oh sky cake, why are you so delicious?

          This music, the music of those who enjoy flaunting their ignorance—American Country, Bluegrass, and Folk—are the genres I have, and will, listen to the least.

          However, I enjoy Nanci Griffith (very much a down-home Texan folk singer).  Her voice always contains a wink and a smile.  Her lyrics rarely cater to the NASCAR lovin' cowboy, drivin' his HMMWV to church with stars n bars flyin' from his antenna.  Her version of From A Distance (written by Julie Gold) is the one I prefer.

• The 1^st stanza describes, literally, our planet from high above.
• The refrain, 3^rd and 5^th stanzas sketch humans—from a distance—as harmonious, peaceful, and well-fed.   
• The middle stanza declares:  God is watching us from a distance.  (Irony?)

          Maybe yesterday's song has me still thinking about irony too much.  I get the idealized, hope-for-a-better-mankind-tomorrow message.  But, within the song's context, isn't it saying:  God doesn't exist.  If she did, he can't see all the terrible feckin shite we keep doing to ourselves from its distant vantage point.  Maybe it's just me and I'm not taking 'distance' metaphorically enough?

 Day 26:  A Quirky Song You Admire, But Can't Put Your Finger On Why

A Favorite From Your First Compilation Album

          My first compilation album came from a drug store bargain bin.  The full set (two 8-tracks) cost me five dollars, was called Superstars of the 70's, and contained about fifty songs...'only a dime a song!'...was how I rationalized this expenditure to myself.

          To put this in some perspective:  it was 1976; I earned $2.30/hr; but, because my parents required me to save half of my pay for college, after taxes I received no more than $1.00/hr in pocket-money.

          My Favorite Song From My First Compilation Album was—and still is—Lucky Man by Emerson, Lake, and Palmer.  There were songs from that double-album I rarely listened to (pushing 'next track' every time they came on) and then there were those I re-listened over-n-over, so often, they're indelibly stamped in long-term memory.  This was one of the latter.

          My fy-ants (mentioned here) says this song is too sad and depressing for her.  For me, it's a perfectly wonderful example of irony...the 'lucky' knight-soldier immortalized by Moog synthesizer.

          For those still counting, this is day 24 of My Song List Month (MySoLiMo).

Day 25:  Song You Enjoy From Your Least-Listened-To Genre

It's Just Me, Carrying My Weight

          Today is Your Favorite Spiritual-or-Secular Song.  This category is not intended to be construed as encompassing everything (as it could be read) but, instead, is supposed to be taken in the vein that "everyone has something they do religiously".

          The Weight by The Band and The Staples Singers (from the film The Last Waltz, directed by Martin Scorsese) is mine.  At first glance, key lyrics (Nazareth, Moses, Judgement Day) hint that this is a religious song.  But, each of the stanzas end with all-too human results...the listener eventually realizes that the song's protagonist (as it were) is just a normal human trying, failing, helping, and—ultimately—only succeeding in carrying his own load.

          I've been a fan of this film, and especially this version of The Weight, since 1979 when I saw it in the Oriental Theater on Milwaukee's East Side.   It was fantastic on the huge single screen.  (The Oriental was, unfortunately, sliced into four small screens decades ago).  32 years ago, ten dollars got you a punch-card good for five admissions, which covered all the films showing that day except for the weekend midnight show (Rocky Horror).  Normally there were two alternating films, unless a film was longer than three hours (e.g. The Seven Samurai, Lawrence of Arabia).  When I saw The Last Waltz it was paired with The Concert for Bangladesh.

          I also recall these double features:

•   King of Hearts  &  Women in Love  (starring Alan Bates)
•   O' Lucky Man  &  If...  (starring Malcolm McDowell)
•   Zardoz  &  Deliverance  (directed by John Boorman)
•   Demon Seed  &  2001  (starring evil computer)
•   Last Tango in Paris  &  Midnight Cowboy  (X rated)
•   Pink Flamingos  &  Female Trouble  (directed by John Waters)
•   Sleuth  &  Marathon Man  (starring Laurence Oliver)
•   Harold and Maude  &  Being There  (directed by Hal Ashby)

          I love, enjoy (criticize too)...but most of all, I attend and I tithe.  Films are my religion.  Theaters are my churches.   They help me carry my load.

Day 24:  A Favorite From Your First Compilation Album

And She Was Random Colors

           A Song Which the Color (Random) Reminds You Of is today's title.


          Appropriately, And She Was Random Colors is the title of this—my newest digital rendering.

          Clicking on the 'generate color' button of the color generator gave me:  grass-green.

          Al Green wrote the song Take Me to the River; although I'm only familiar with the Talking Heads version.

          One of my favorite Talking Heads songs is And She Was, which begins with the lyric: "And she was lying in the grass..."

Day 23:  Your Favorite Spiritual-or-Secular Song

...but then, where is life?

          Today's category is Favorite Foreign Language Song. 

          In the early-to-mid 1990s I lived in Belgium (mentioned here) but traveled continuously as a protective service agent (fancy name for bodyguard).  I tried to find something I liked in the countries I visited (detailed here).  In a few—where I wasn't in control of the radio—all I seemed to hear was English or American music.  In many more I was able to listen to local music but failed to discover a song-style or musician I liked enough to buy their CD.  Not to shock anyone...but fifteen years ago, that really was the only way to re-hear a song you liked from the radio or television.

          I spent more than four months in Italy during those three years.  (In the protection business, cultivating security relationships can be helpful, therefore, team-members usually returned to countries where they'd made useful contacts.  Mine were in France, The Netherlands, and Italy.)  It was in Italy where I heard and bought the CD containing Cose della Vita by Eros Ramazzotti.  I prefer this original to the 1997 duet-version with Tina Turner.

          Just like listening to an Opera in English ruins it (makes me laugh) the translation of these Italian lyrics are unimportant.  If I knew them they'd probably lose their je ne sais qua.

Day 22:  A Song Which the Color (Random) Reminds You Of

Instrumental

          Today's category is  Your Favorite Instrumental.

          Since electronica and trance (and many of their sub-genres) are my preferred genres, it's simple to understand why Orbital's full version of The Box is my favorite instrumental (The Box Part 1 and The Box Part 2 is the full almost 13 minute title).

          For those unfamiliar with elec-trance—claiming a preference for Orbital is the equivalent of declaring that one's favorite male vocalist of the 50s is Elvis or saying Pink Floyd is your favorite psychedelic rock band of the 70s.  I know I'm picking low-hanging fruit.  It's the best.

Day 21:   Favorite Foreign Language Song

The Paragon of Protest Songs

          My personal Paragon of Protest Songs (today's category) is Timmy Thomas' 1972 song, "Why Can't We Live Together".  The Hammond organ.  That punctuation note.  Hammering home the message.  Demanding your attention with subtle simplicity.

          I was a child during Vietnam (that's how everyone referred to it.  One word.  One noun.  Heavily laden with invisible but not silent verbs.)  When I joined the "teenager ranks" my requirement to register for the draft in a short five-years didn't seem very distant.  I thought my choices were clearly defined by Walter Cronkite on the nightly news:  become a scorned soldier who napalmed innocent villagers or join the ranks of protesters beaten by police.


           At thirteen, I didn't want to do either.

          The draft was eliminated when I was fourteen.

          Vietnam ended when I was sixteen.

          When I entered Purdue University (go Boilermakers) at seventeen, all the protests had faded like my jeans.

          Papa (mentioned here and here) passed away from a heart attack in his sleep when I was nineteen years old.  At Nana's house, after his funeral, my sister and I sat at the organ (mentioned here) while family members milled, cried, and whispered around us.  We both tried to play Timmy's melody and punctuation note; demanding attention with subtle simplicity.

Day 20:  Favorite Instrumental