On Sundays the Moosh and I go to my parents house first thing in the morning. Now that he's on a normal sleep schedule compared to when I was working evenings, he generally wakes me up at 7:30 AM by jumping on me and yelling, "It's time to go to Grammie's house!" Oy.
Thus awakened, I am usually on the road to my mom's house at 8 AM on Sunday. I have discovered a radio show that is on from 8 AM - 10 AM that plays retro alternative music from my youth. That is, a song will come on that I haven't heard in 10 years, and I squeal like a little girl and turn up the volume. The Moosh finds this Most Amusing.
I try not to dwell on the depressing fact that the whole reason they have this show on Sundays at 8 AM is because the people listening to it are Old. In their 30s. Married with children. Then there is the secondary realization that I am one of those people.
Anyway, the music, it is awesome. And oh, does it ever take me back. Why just this morning I heard this:
El Scorcho, Ay Carumba!
Goddamn you half-Japanese girls
Do it to me every time
Oh, the redhead said you shred the cello
And I'm jello, baby
In the days before digital music downloads, people bought CDs. I bought the CD Pinkerton, by Weezer, which featured the above song (El Scorcho) in the winter of 1996 when I was working at Kroger in the floral department. It was the end of my first semester of college and I had my car impounded a couple of days before the semester ended, thus forcing me to actually get a job and not just study. The winter was cold that year and the floral department opened into the receiving area for the produce trucks so the big overhead doors were always open, so it was freezing.
I spent my entire 3 month tenure at that job being frozen to the core, listening to Pinkerton, and crushing on this guy who worked in the produce department. Denton was, and still is, something of an artist's colony - lots of would-bes working day jobs. The guy was cute, 10 years older than I was, and very serious about his painting. I lurved him.
Not that it ever came to anything because I am the biggest chicken ever. But still, random produce guy, may I say now:
How stupid is it? I can't talk about it
I gotta sing about it and make a record of my heart
How stupid is it? Won't you give me a minute
Just come up to me and say hello to my heart
How stupid is it?
For all I know you want me too
And maybe you just don't know what to do
Or maybe you're scared to say: "I'm falling for you"
Hope you're well, random produce guy.