Lilith Saintcrow

So it’s Monday, and I’m thinking that I’ll need the next two days as a weekend from, well, my weekend. It was a busy one. And it made me stop and look back. Not like Lot’s wife–or maybe like her, viewing an orgy of destruction. She might have crumbled free of that salt, denying angry fathers and men their control.

But that’s another story. Let’s start with Linda Ronstadt. I’m a big fan since childhood, of her and Carly Simon.

My mum listened to a LOT of Ronstadt, and the chorus to this song is kind of a family refrain.

No, I didn’t have a broken heart this weekend. But I did meet a few people who had this song running through my head all Sunday. And YouTube came through for me in a big way with a mashup, too. Which, of course, led me to another Linda Ronstadt favorite.

This song reminds me of a particular house we lived in, out in the sticks. A long driveway, three-quarters of an acre, and my mother playing this song after fights that ended with slamming doors and gunning engines. Broken glass, the smell of leaves in autumn, and driving to the mall.

Speaking of malls, here’s an old one that reminds me of mall-crawling. It was not quite a classic but a quirky choice nonetheless by the time the 90s rolled around.

Before we leave the 80s, mention has to be made of Murray Head. Do you remember this playing during that Jean-Claude Van Damme movie? I do. Lord, I do.

I get my kicks ABOVE the waistline, sunshine! (I started using “sunshine” as a term of endearment in junior high and grew out of it, except in my fiction. Where it shows up in the weirdest places.

No, wait. I’m not ready to let go of the 80s yet. How about this? They played Taco all the time at that one dance club, during 80s night. We had a whole production number worked out, remember?

And of course, we’d all yell “PUHHIN ON DA RIIIIHHHH!” while doing Frankenstein’s Monster. It got to where the DJ would stop the music and do crowd-response calls.

Speaking of that dance club, this was “our” song. At least, it was “your” song and I didn’t mind it. But I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I.

As for the nineties, well, there was the Lightning Seeds when I started high school. Even now it reminds me of stealing the tape, eventually returning it when I could sing every word, and the first jolt of a love affair when I was still too young to see sharks under the water.

Remember when Plant and Page got back together? That was the first nosebleed I ever got at a concert. They didn’t play this, but I was all right anyway. I’d gotten rid of the one boyfriend who thought I was a punching bag, and I really thought I was going to make it somewhere else.

Then he showed back up again, and the downward spiral started. I still get shivers when I hear this.

Yeah. Shivers, right on target. He was a nice boy, just too quick with his fists.

And then there was that other boy, the one that didn’t understand what a bruised heart meant, who kept asking me who was hurting me.

Yeah. Then there was leaving home. I remember that. Crying while I drove, throwing myself out at the world and expecting no net to catch me. But if I could survive home, the real world would be not a huge problem.

Last but not least, thank you, Tom Petty. You saved my life. And later, while I was writing? I thanked you in the only way I knew how, by making this Danny Valentine’s song. Well, actually, she dug up this song and insisted, and I gave in. Because, hey baby, there ain’t no easy way out, and I learned that when I was very very young.

Yeah. Sometimes music does save you. Funny how a few bars of melody can remind you-sink you whole, actually–into memory and sensation. Like this. I remember this album literally shining light on my entire life the first time I listened to it.

I was feeling kind of bad this morning, but the tunes have stepped in. It’s going to be okay. And baby, if it isn’t okay, as Deangelo often said to me, the Muppets will make it okay.

Well, okay. That wasn’t exactly what he said. But the principle remains. The Muppets will certainly make it okay.

Over and out, kiddos. But not before Shakespeare gets poleaxed by Muppets. Hey, we’ve got to find our joy where we can. If nothing else, life has taught me that. And also about clean knickers.

I’m not sure WHAT life has taught me about clean knickers, but I’m sure it’s SOMETHING.

This entry was posted on Monday, August 11th, 2008 at 11:41 am and is filed under Contest/Giveaway, Neato Keano, Real Life, Reviews. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.