Our first song was “Something Stupid” by Frank and Nancy Sinatra. We were three year –olds riding in our mothers’ shopping carts at Food King, complete strangers to one another.
Until the crash.
I don’t blame Mom. She was so mesmerized by the song wafting from the loudspeaker overhead that she forgot to look where she was going. I guess Frank didn’t duet with female singers too often, so Nancy’s voice threw her off.
With two crying toddlers, our mothers had no choice but to introduce themselves and eventually, in time, become good friends.
Another song that stands out in my mind is an instrumental version of Journey’s “Open Arms.” It was playing over the loudspeaker when we ran into each other again. Literally.
Same situation, only instead of smashing into one another with shopping carts, we collided while working the produce aisle.
Luckily, neither of us cried. We were both seventeen, and although our mothers were still friends, we’d drifted apart. He was the football team’s greatest asset, and I was a journalism nerd.
As Steve Perry’s pleaded with his love in song, my old childhood friend bent down to gather up the spilled tomatoes.
“Watch where you’re going next time, alright”, he told me as he hurried off. Yup. A match made in Heaven.
Okay, the next one may not exactly count as Muzak, but maybe you’ve heard it at your local grocer’s: “Walking on Sunshine”, by Katrina and the Waves.
He got over being angry at me for making him spill those tomatoes. We dated through college, and danced to that song at our wedding. It was the quintessential 80’s affair, with dayglo bridal gowns, mullets and drunken groomsmen galore.
I loved "Walking on Sunshine" back then-we both did. Now, I can’t stand it. It did come in handy a few times, though.
Whenever my kids misbehaved at Food King, I’d threaten to dance in the middle of the store until they sorted themselves out. My daughter decided to test me, just as Katrina's peppy voice boomed overhead. Never had a problem after that.
But that song, like so many others from my youth, has become fodder for supermarket playlists. I guess that’s where old songs go to die. If “Walking on Sunshine” is obsolete, what does that make me?
Yesterday, my gut did a skydive down to my feet as I strolled the baked goods aisle. The kids have all moved out, so it’s just he and I.
It wasn’t just the pain of hearing another life-giving song from my past become a quaint golden oldie. This one spoke to me. Directly to me.
The Clash. “Should I Stay or Should I Go.”
Joe Strummer’s voice cut through my inertia and the complacency that had settled over me like ashes from a fire.
We rattle around the house, he and I. We don’t speak. He’s out more than he’s in. The kids sense trouble, but diplomatically stay out of it. It’s been coming on for a long time.
Hmmmm.
I guess not all songs you hear in the market are meaningless crap.
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