mangled song lyrics and other imminent joys
i thought it might be about time to confess to you, if i haven't already, my two favoritely mangled song lyrics. when i was little i used to listen to the radio obsessively. never was interested in the television, but put me in front of the stereo and, whoa, watch out. i even went into this stage where i tried to call and win prizes from the radio station by identifying little snippets of songs no one should ever listen to, much less know by heart--know so well, in fact, that she can identify it by means of a three-second slice of it--songs like phil collins' cover of, "you can't hurry love," for example. all of this was happening before the age of seven, before my mother began to add this particular aspect of my behavior to other, slightly more disturbing aspects of it--the tendency to hide in the bathroom for hours, underneath the sink behind the skirt, reading entire novels while everyone else ate dinner; the tendency to dissect my dolls and cut off all their hair; the tendency to talk to myself--and formulated that the sum of these parts was not so healthy... so she put me on the tennis court where i found a more tangible outlet for this intensity and that was that.
but i digress.
this entry was sparked by the chance hearing of don henley's song, "boys of summer," this morning as i wandered the dingy and degraded aisles of the south pasadena rite-aid (side note: priscilla, remember before ATP a couple years ago, when i brushed my teeth in the parking lot there? vanessa was horrified). before you scoff, i have a real soft spot for that song, if for no other reason than the fact that it bears the dubious distinction of being the song whose lyrics i most spectacularly misheard. for those of you unfamiliar with the song, the chorus goes something like this:
"i can see you/ your brown skin shining in the sun/ you got your hair pulled back/ and your wayfarers on baby/ i can tell you my love for you will still be strong/ after the boys of summer have gone."
to my five-year-old ears, however, the chorus went as follows: "i can see you/ your brown skin shedding in the sun/ i see you walking real slow/ and smiling at everyone/ i can tell you my love for you will still be strong/ afghan of poison/ son of a gun."
her skin was shedding! because she was wearing a poisonous afghan! and she had to walk slow because of the effects of the poison!
it made sense at the time.
perhaps this only amuses me. maybe i've told you this story before, but i'm obsessed with the way people mishear lyrics, and what it says about them. like, hearing "my baby died" instead of "my baby love" in that supremes song--how long can you go on believing those are the words? i mean, she sounds so happy about it. if those were indeed the lyrics, would the trademark supremes synchronized dance routine involve synchronized weeping and shoveling dirt? then again, diana ross IS a bonafide freak, so who knows.
well, that wraps up that deranged line of thinking.
last night we discovered a great vegetarian restaraunt in eagle rock--fatty's. incredible. i want to write a little bit about what's happening in new orleans, but it's far too upsetting. there will be a whole entry replete with things i've tried to research re: things we can do to really, really help. i just can't believe a city that important, both culturally and historically, can just basically disappear. get atlantised. it seems too frustrating, too unbelievable. esp. regarding bush and the ineptitude and basic corruption of his regime. it's only a matter of time before we get a fox news point-counterpoint debate over how the hurricane was simply god's punishment on the wanton decadence of the new orleans way of life. it makes me cry.
but i digress.
this entry was sparked by the chance hearing of don henley's song, "boys of summer," this morning as i wandered the dingy and degraded aisles of the south pasadena rite-aid (side note: priscilla, remember before ATP a couple years ago, when i brushed my teeth in the parking lot there? vanessa was horrified). before you scoff, i have a real soft spot for that song, if for no other reason than the fact that it bears the dubious distinction of being the song whose lyrics i most spectacularly misheard. for those of you unfamiliar with the song, the chorus goes something like this:
"i can see you/ your brown skin shining in the sun/ you got your hair pulled back/ and your wayfarers on baby/ i can tell you my love for you will still be strong/ after the boys of summer have gone."
to my five-year-old ears, however, the chorus went as follows: "i can see you/ your brown skin shedding in the sun/ i see you walking real slow/ and smiling at everyone/ i can tell you my love for you will still be strong/ afghan of poison/ son of a gun."
her skin was shedding! because she was wearing a poisonous afghan! and she had to walk slow because of the effects of the poison!
it made sense at the time.
perhaps this only amuses me. maybe i've told you this story before, but i'm obsessed with the way people mishear lyrics, and what it says about them. like, hearing "my baby died" instead of "my baby love" in that supremes song--how long can you go on believing those are the words? i mean, she sounds so happy about it. if those were indeed the lyrics, would the trademark supremes synchronized dance routine involve synchronized weeping and shoveling dirt? then again, diana ross IS a bonafide freak, so who knows.
well, that wraps up that deranged line of thinking.
last night we discovered a great vegetarian restaraunt in eagle rock--fatty's. incredible. i want to write a little bit about what's happening in new orleans, but it's far too upsetting. there will be a whole entry replete with things i've tried to research re: things we can do to really, really help. i just can't believe a city that important, both culturally and historically, can just basically disappear. get atlantised. it seems too frustrating, too unbelievable. esp. regarding bush and the ineptitude and basic corruption of his regime. it's only a matter of time before we get a fox news point-counterpoint debate over how the hurricane was simply god's punishment on the wanton decadence of the new orleans way of life. it makes me cry.