Useless Information And Happy Dance Beat All In One Post

Did you know that on this day in history A-ha’s song Take On Me reached number one on the U.S. Charts? Yep. Way back in 1985. Where were you?

Happy Weekend, Everyone!

Where Have All The Good Radio Stations Gone or Satellite Killed The Radio Star

I was conversing with a group of my peers. More specifically, a group of peers of which I was the oldest by about 8 years. I was lamenting the disappearance of my favorite radio stations.

What do I listen to? A variety of music but my favorite is rock and alternative.

In the past year, my three mainstay radio stations have succumbed to all pop music, all sports station or a new location with a weaker signal.

“But there’s this great new station at 103.7 where they play a huge variety. In fact, their catch phrase is “We play everything!””

Uh. Yeah. If by everything you mean everything that’s old.

“No they don’t. They play current stuff. What do you mean by old?”

What do you mean by current?

“Well, they play Nirvana and Aerosmith and Dave Matthews.”

Okay. I’ll give you Dave Matthews since he’s put out music recently but have you looked at Steven Tyler lately? (Sorry Steve.) And Nirvana? They were a 90’s band. Old music. I rest my case.

“The nineties isn’t old!” They all shouted.

If it’s more than 5 years old in music world? It’s old.

They all looked at me with blank stares.

To break the uncomfortable silence I whined about the loss of my beloved radio stations. What will I listen to now?

“Satellite radio. I love it. I can listen to all my favorites by genre.”

What do you all listen to?

“Rush. Led Zepplin. The Who. U2.”

I’ll say it again. Old.

Sigh.

Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy the old stuff, too. But I find when I have a steady diet of music that I listened to when I was a teenager I fall into the same teenage angst that I tried so hard to shake. I remember the boy that dumped me. The creep that I stood up on purpose. The guy I pined for and never did anything about. The music of my twenties stirs memories of marrying too young, scraping by on teacher’s salaries and lonely nights even though I was married. In my thirties songs will remind me of my divorce, that jerk I worked for and my daughter and I struggling in our tiny one bedroom apartment.

I love music. All kinds. But I thrive on the new stuff. I love discovering Adele and Imagine Dragons and Bitter:Sweet before the masses. Or knowing all about PSY and Gangnam Style before my daughter-in-college and teaching her the dance moves! (A coup that I shall celebrate for the next few months.) 

Oh sure. Old songs stir happy memories, too. But I find when I only listen to the old stuff my heart gets pulled back to a time that doesn’t exist anymore. My heart is here. It is now.

And I want to create new memories with the songs I hear.

With new music.

Hey! Got A Spare House Payment? Great! Let’s Go To A Concert!

I am a big Pink Floyd/The Wall/Roger Waters fan. My husband? Even bigger.

So when I saw on 60 Minutes the scope and scale of the Roger Waters show that is touring the country, I was intrigued.

Three years to plan and create this rock opera extravaganza. With 42 high-definition projectors. The screen, flashing images throughout the concert, is 3 stories tall and as long as a football field. Choirs. Orchestras. And Roger Waters, of course.

My husband’s birthday is this summer and I thought, what a treat! I’ll take him to see this amazing concert. And since I get to go, too, it’s a win-win!

Fifty bucks for tickets in the nosebleeds. Hmmmm. Let’s see what it is a little closer to the action. The tickets jump to $199 and $250. And we’re still not even near the floor yet. We’re still waaaaayyyy up there. It’s a pretty huge venue.

(Cue cynical smirk.)

Wonder what the prices are for tickets on the floor?

They start at $575. Or you can pay $1250 to be right on top of the action.

One thousand, two hundred, fifty dollars.

For one ticket.

Just one.

That’s a house payment. Or college tuition payment. Or a monthly paycheck for a teacher.

Twelve hundred dollars and change for the opportunity to be entertained for a few hours.

I’m appalled.

And then I stumble upon this piece about Roger Waters being thrilled that he was able to see Jimi Hendrix and Cream back in the 60’s for about 2 bucks. Recounted as the “deal of his life” Waters said, “It might have been the best purchase I ever made.”

Where is our deal, Mr. Waters?

I am so sick of celebrities: wearing their armbands of support, wearing t-shirts and hats screaming their favorite charity, lending their name and face to a philanthropic endeavor, pleading with us to give all we can and then turning around and agreeing with the venue to charge us a thousand bucks to see them play. I realize the star doesn’t receive all of the profit. But c’mon. A thousand dollars? You’re kidding me, right?

So, I’m curious. What charities does Roger Waters want me to support?

I go to looktothestars.org and search his name.

And this is what I find:

“Charities & foundations supported

None known – if you know of one, please drop us an email”

Not surprising.

Sigh.

We’re not going. Even to sit in the nosebleeds.

I still love the music.

But I am no longer a fan.

(I know there are artists out there that refuse to deal with certain venues or ticket sellers because of outrageous pricing. If you know of any, please list them in the comments section below. Those are the artists I want to support.)

Who Needs New Year’s Resolutions? I Work Out! (I’m Sexy And I Know It.)

A radio station I listen to had a Facebook question posted. What are the worst and best songs of 2011?

I was stunned to see one of my favorite songs of 2011 posted in the worst category not once, not twice but several times.

LMFAO’s Sexy And I Know It

And it never appeared in the best category. Not once.

There’s no accounting for taste.

On my part, I guess. But I think the song is a scream. My daughter played it for me in the car and I almost had to pull over I was laughing so hard. And then….the video?

Oh.

My.

God. (I work out!)

Hilarious.

Just what I need as I wave goodbye to 2011 and hello to 2012.

My New Year’s resolution is to approach life with a little more humor. And this video is going to get me started. Even if it did come from the not so stellar year (for me, anyway) of 2011.

Enjoy! (But not with impressionable children around. The visuals may be a bit too much for them. But for you? Best viewed on a full screen. And I dare you. Just try not to laugh.)

Hurry! Listen To This Before It’s Too Late!

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but I haven’t published a “Tunes for Tuesday” in quite some time now. Ok. Maybe you’ve noticed and you’ve been too polite to ask about it. Afraid it might stir up something unpleasant or I might take it as a criticism of my lack of follow-through.

Oh, you’re so kind.

Or maybe, you haven’t said anything because whenever you’d see a “Tunes for Tuesday” post you’d quickly click the other way because you don’t need any music recommendations, thank you very much, and thank God Jane gave you a free pass to click somewhere else by posting something so dull.

This is the probable explanation.

But aren’t you dying to know the real reason I’ve been reluctant to post music recs (until now)?

Apparently, when I post a music video from YouTube – even a remote, homemade video created by Joe or Jane Commonmusiclover – it eventually gets pulled from my blog by the powers that be because I’m violating some privacy law. (Or some such thing.)

Seriously?

Lil’ ol’ me?

Crusader against plagiarism Jane?

So, I post the video on my blog? What’s the big deal?  It clearly says “YouTube” on it. (So, duh. That’s where I got it.) It clearly has the name of the artist and the name of the song.

And here’s the kicker. I don’t make a dime off posting it here. And I don’t make a dime from this blog. Never have. Never will. I’m not in this for the money. (Just the fame) I don’t have advertising. I don’t get paid to write. I don’t get kickbacks for pushing books, music or my favorite charities.

I do all this free advertising for you, dear YouTube and your artists, out of the goodness of my heart. I am the common man billboard, shouting out to all 12 of my readers to hurry and buy your product. And I don’t ask for a dime.

(But maybe I should……..? Hmmmmmm…….)

I’m taking a big chance here, posting a music recommendation. So hurry and listen before it’s too late!

My daughter gives me music recommendations. She’s the only reason that Lady Gaga and Flo Rida (among others) are on my ipod. I give her recommendations. I was listening to Cage The Elephant and All Rebel Rockers before her. She couldn’t believe I had Shake it by Metro Station on my ipod before her. But, hey. What can I say? I’m all cool like that.

I’m not like a regular mom. I’m a cool mom.

Now, I’m a bit behind in finding Paper Tongues. Apparently, they produced their first album in 2009. And this song, Ride to California, is my new favorite song. It’s like Cage the Elephant and Flo Rida mashed up together. Rock hip hop is the best way I can describe it.

It’s catchy. It’s fun. Turn it up loud and start cleaning your kitchen. Put it on repeat and you’ll have a sparkling house in no time.

That’s how I get through daily housework, anyway.

Enjoy! (While it lasts)

(Disclaimer to the powers that be: I am common Jane. I am merely pushing your product, FOR FREE, in the hopes that other like-minded individuals will buy your product. If your sales increase because of my recommendation? Yay! Good for you! I won’t ask for a dime. But they won’t plummet, either. I promise. Even the annoying Google ads still run on the video. Please consider this before pulling your video from my blog. Thank you.)

A 43 Year Age Difference Wrong? Not If You’re A Rock Star.

Fact: Steven Tyler is 63 years old. That is 5 years younger than my own mother. So, technically, he could be my father. A young father, but I’m pretty sure he was “doin’ it” at that age.

Fact: Steven Tyler’s first solo performance video was released this week.(You can see the video here.)

Fact: The back-up singer, Nicole Scherzinger (age 32), could definitely be his daughter.

 Almost Fact (because I’m still trying to prove it): The model used in the video, the object of Steven Tyler’s desires, looks young. Like really, really, really young. Uber-young. Young enough to be my daughter. So that would be young enough to be his granddaughter.

Fact + fact + fact + almost fact = something that turns my stomach.

Ewwwww.

Just ewwwww.

When You Bleep Out The Uckin And We Can Still Hear The F and The G? You’re Not Foolin’ Anyone.

I’ve had this idea for a website (that I will never put into action but let it to be known I thought of it first) where you can ask a specific question with specific parameters for your specific situation and an expert in that specific field will answer you specifically…I mean, personally. (Now, if there is already a site like this and I don’t know about it? Don’t tell me. I want to be ignorant in my bliss, thinking I thought of it first. Thank you.)

Why do I need a website like this? Because I wonder and ponder inane stuff all the time. Every waking moment. From the minute I open my eyes in the morning.

Like this, for example…..

Any music execs, disc jockeys, radio station owners in the house?

• I understand how it happens when a song is hip, current and hugely popular. You know, when every time you switch the radio station and the same song is on every station. But what about when a song is no longer hip, current or hugely popular. As in over 10 years old. This has happened quite a few times with the two rock stations I flip back and forth between. This morning, a song I happen to enjoy (Chemicals Between Us – Bush) was on one station. As soon as the song finished, it segued into Vasoline by Stone Temple Pilots. It’s a song I have on my ipod but I’m sick to death of it, so I changed the station, only to listen to the last minute of…you guessed it, Chemicals between Us. As much as I like the song, I just heard it. And I didn’t want to go back to done-to-death Vasoline. It was suffer in silence or listen to top 40. (Katy Perry won.) How does this happen? Do the djs have little airwave spys that listen to competing stations and copy their playlists, hoping to snag extra listeners? Coincidence? With any song that’s over 10 years old and happens somewhat frequently? I think not.

On to my second pondering…..

• At risk of sounding like my grandmother here…..what is it about PG-13 crap on the airwaves? I have small children in the car. But we like to listen to music. And my 7-yr. old is a little headbanger. He loves rock. Aside from never being able to listen in the morning (with the sophomoric, potty mouthed, sexually charged spew coming from the morning djs), when you bleep out an expletive but you leave in the first sound “f” and the last sound “g”? You’re not hiding much. I enjoy the song Nightmare by Avenged Sevenfold. (You can listen to it here.) It’s on my ipod. The “unclean” version. But no way is my kid ever going to hear it. And no way is he going to hear the “clean” version on the radio because even if you bleep out the “uckin” I can still hear the “f” and the “g”. And no way am I ready to have that conversation with my kid. So, I censor away. Yep, it’s a communist state in the Jane household.

Which leads me to wonder this….

• When a show is G rated, shouldn’t the commercials be G rated too? I’m sick of watching sporting events or even shows on Nickelodeon and having to mute or change the channel when a PG-13 or R rated movie trailer comes onto the screen. Or a Victoria Secrets ad. My kids love baseball and football. Or Brady Bunch reruns. I shouldn’t have to censor the commercials for G rated television. That’s just wrong.

There you have it. My rant, I mean, my ponderings.

Jane’s Inane.

Any experts out there listening?

Inquiring minds want to know!

Christmas In November. Well, Actually I Saw Signs In September But I Refused To Notice.

Halloween is two days behind us. We haven’t even come down off our sugar high and there are candy canes and displays in the grocery stores for fruit cakes and Christmas cookie decorations.

It has always amazed me how early Christmas displays pop up. And I know I sound old when I say this, but the signs seems to be popping up earlier and earlier. Back in my day…..

OK. I really don’t remember what it was like back in the day. I was too excited for Halloween and getting tons of candy and then making it last until Christmas. At least. And because my sister would scarf up her candy within the week and I would carefully and deliberately  ration my own stash — Christmas seemed a long way off.

And it is. 53 days away. But I was out shopping today and from the looks of things, I’d say it’s just around the corner. They’re even playing Christmas carols.

What about Thanksgiving? Or Election Day (today), for that matter? What about living in the moment? Or one day at a time? Why are we rushing things?

Zen-zen, people! Breathe.

I have a friend who refuses to decorate for a holiday until she is actually in the month that the holiday falls. I admire her restraint. I think the stores should follow suit.

But then I remember why the stores are getting ready so early. And that reminds me of the Green Day song “Macy’s Day Parade.”

“Give me something that I need
Satisfaction guaranteed
Because I’m thinking about
A brand new hope
The one I’ve never known
Cause now I know
It’s all that I wanted” – And I find these lyrics particularly interesting, today of all days. I don’t know how the elections are going to turn out in your area but I know in mine, people are ticked. They’re tired of the same-old-same-old from politicians on both sides. They’re disillusioned by the great hope our poor president promised two years ago.

I truly feel for the man. What a mess he has to clean up. A mess many people are expecting him to fix – and him alone. This recession, that was supposed to be over in the summer of 2009, seems far from over. Even if we wanted to celebrate with mass materialism, many people just can’t do it.

And I say? That’s a good thing.

We can blame Macy’s and Publix and the evil bankers on Wall Street. But when it comes right down to it, we’re the ones pulling out our credit cards and signing mortgage loans we have no idea how we’re going to honor. I read an article recently (I wish I remember where, but I don’t. Sorry!) that said 50 years ago the majority of Americans didn’t own homes and car loans were unheard of. You paid cash. You rented until you could put down a hefty down payment on a house. The only credit you used was with your local butcher or milkman.

We’re the ones getting sucked into the merchant’s insistence that we start celebrating (by spending, spending, spending on stuff we don’t need) early.

And we’re the ones who can show a little restraint.

Like my friend.

Divorce: Standing Alone In The Wreck

If I could have a regret in my life that is wrapped up in a wonderful gift it would be my first marriage. All by itself, I regret that marriage. Oh sure, I learned so much about myself. I grew. I became a better person.

And most of all, I received an amazing, wonderful, beautiful daughter. If the way she had to come to be was through that marriage, fine. I accept it. But I don’t have to like it.

Because I hate what she has had to go through. I hate what it’s done to her self-esteem. I hate the choices she has had to make because of the split. All because I chose him for her dad.

When I was going through the divorce my attorney advised me on many things. She predicted things that would come to be and I nodded. Not in agreement. Because my ex would never, ever do the things she described. Never. Ever. (Insert wry laugh here.)

Boy. Was I wrong.

I have watched my beautiful daughter experience such dysfunction. Promises broken. Lies told. A step-mother who is insanely jealous. A woman who treats my daughter like “the other woman.” Since she was 6 years old she has had to keep secret any activity with her father that doesn’t involve her step-mother. Every movie. Every ice cream cone. Every shopping trip.

Recently, we have been weathering an amazing storm. A situation I never dreamed would happen. Out of respect for my daughter, I won’t air the dirty details. But it has ripped my daughter to the core. She wants to change her name. She wants to never see him again. She feels abandoned and unappreciated. And what tears my heart apart is that she feels unimportant, unworthy and unloved by him.

If I could go back and change something, anything – I would. Quite honestly, I have no idea what I’d change. If it means me not being her mother, I would sacrifice that for her to be treated better by a father. I only want the best for her.

And she doesn’t deserve this.

She deserves so much better.

To All The Karma Chameleons In Our Lives: May You Stay Far, Far Away

“Is there loving in your eyes all the way.
If I listened to your lies would you say” –  You know the type. They say one thing. Do another. I’ve had people in my life – friends, family, acquaintances – who seem so sincere. And I believe them. And then my heart is stomped.

“Didn’t hear your wicked words every day
and you used to be so sweet” – The lesson that is so, so difficult to learn is how to recognize these karma chameleons, these psychic vampires, and stay far, far away. I am horrible at this. I don’t recognize them. I give them every benefit of the doubt. Everyone else seems to see through them but me.

“You string along, you string along” – There’s that saying “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” I get fooled twice, thrice and….well, four times quite a bit. And then some. It’s frustrating. It’s maddening. But it’s all on me. It’s a part of me I love – seeing the good and not the bad. Giving the second and third chances. Starting anew with someone that’s just a little misunderstood. But it’s a part of me I hate. Getting my heart trounced on. Being made the fool over and over again.

“Every day is like survival” – That was my childhood. Finding ways to survive. Finding ways to cope and thrive in a dysfunctional relationship with my mother. What thrills me is that I escaped, relatively unscathed. What frustrates me is that there are people in my life that remind me I haven’t quite learned the lesson.

“Karma karma karma karma karma chameleon,
you come and go, you come and go.” – I’m not a vengeful person but I do hope that karma bites these chameleons in the butt some time. Hoping they learn the lesson they’re supposed to learn.

“Karma karma karma karma karma chameleon,
you come and go, you come and go.
Loving would be easy if your colors were like my dreams,
red gold and green, red gold and green.” – I will still give people the benefit of the doubt. I will still be fooled. I’m working on noticing it sooner. And I’m trying to find the balance between recognizing the chameleons but maintaining my sunny, optimistic view.  I don’t want to be hardened. I don’t want to be cynical. I am teetering between the two sides, desperately not wanting to fall.