"Let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance. Let's get rich and build our house on a mountain—making everyone look like ants." —Ingrid Michaelson
You should really check out this song, You and I, on the Be OK album. It is one of those songs that makes me smile from the moment I hear the first chords. I love the sentiment and I really love the lines above. Spoiler Alert: everyone on my Christmas list is getting sweaters and dance lessons this year.
I'm not a huge music buff. I love music and have very eclectic tastes, but I rarely remember the names of the artists, the song titles or even whether it was recorded in this century. I am the type of person who finds herself breaking out in song when someone says something that even vaguely resembles a song I know the words to. For example, we may be having a conversation about gardening and you start to give me pointers on how to keep the crows away from my plum tree. When you say crow I immediately conjure up an image of a black bird, which leads to me belting out the chorus of The Beatles's Blackbird. Or maybe my daughter is suspicious about the Tooth Fairy really coming to replace her last baby tooth with some change. That's when I start a stirring rendition of Don't Stop Believin' by Journey. The last one almost always gets me some eye rolling and a 'Please leave my room now, Mom.'
I know many people, my children included, who listen to music all day long. They sing along to it, use it to help them sleep or lessen their anxiety—but I usually only listen to music when I need to drown something else out, or I need to feel something different than what I am currently experiencing. It can often inspire me, make me get up and dance (with or without accompanying air guitar and vocals) make me cry, or make me envious of the great talent that is out in the world.
If you hear me humming or singing a particular song, don't expect me to be able to tell you who sings it and please don't think because I know a lot of lyrics to a lot of random songs that I will be any worth to you at the next pub trivia night. No one wants to see your team tank because the white girl who lived through the '80s can't tell whether the song snippet they just played was Tiffany or Debbie Gibson.
Tiffany was the redhead, right?