the world's worst iPod playlist

Sometimes I feel the urge to just troll around on the internet, looking for anything remotely interesting that does not require upgrading my software or a credit card number. Blogspot.com allows you to check out random blog sites, with interesting results. Tons of people on here post pictures of their kids (not everyone is so lucky to have a cat like me), others are trying to sell whatever crap happens to be collecting dust in their basement. The right wing nut jobs and the yellow dog democrats just make me tired. Truly cool pages that hold my attention are hard to come by. Then I found a lovely young lady from Texas who made me smile. After a long day at work looking at numbers and percentages and treading carefully through the house, trying to avoid the mess Jonathan is making (it's hardwood floor time again) it was a pleasant surprise. She appreciates good spellers and hates tomatoes, so I give her an A. And she posted a list of lame songs she's not ashamed to love.

Be still my heart.

So here is my mix tape of music that makes me terribly uncool:

1. "Uptown Girl" by Billy Joel. I dunno how I first discovered this song, or how I procured a copy of it, but I remember being on long drives to my grandparents' house and playing it over and over and over again, never tiring of it. I think my record was 27 times nonstop. I'm still that way, cranking it up in the shop whenever it comes on. Much to the chagrin of my employees.

2. Pretty much anything by Phil Collins. When I was in college, I got busted listening to his greatest hits album in my woodworking studio by some older, cooler art students. They stopped dead at the doorway, looked at each other, and silently walked away. Oh well, I have a real job now and they're probably still in funky apartments living off vodka and ramen noodles.

3. My personal trainer assured me that I was the only person at 24 Hour Fitness who worked out to ABBA. "Dancing Queen" is a personal favorite of one of a straight male friend of mine (crazy, I know) and it kinda grew on me.

4. "Something to Believe In" by Poison. I dig the ballads by the 80's hair bands. Honorable mentions in this category go to Damn Yankees' "High Enough" (that's my boy Tommy Shaw again) and Mr. Big's "To Be With You".

5. "Glory of Love" by Peter Cetera. Uber-cheesy. Makes me want to go rent The Karate Kid, Part II.

Pretty terrible, huh? I could go on and on, but my bedtime and pride have stopped me. And thanks to http://tracianne.com/ for inspiring me to come out of the closet with my iPod playlist.

P.S. No, Jonathan. There are no Styx songs on this list. The only song of theirs you like is Mr. Roboto and nobody likes that one. Not even Styx. But I still love you, babe.

boot scootin'

I think it was in the seventh grade or so when I got my first pair of cowboy boots. They were super-cool for 1993, white (fake I'm sure) leather with some sort of fringe on the sides. I don't exactly recall, but I most likely begged my mother for them so that I could wear them when we went to Libby's for some live music and two-steppin'.

Note: I couldn't for the life of me remember the name of that place. Kept wanting to call it "Dollies", but that was a strip club just across the Tennessee line where several people I knew acquired employment. Anyone who was at Murray State during my tenure knows that place was legendary. But anyhoo..

I always had a blast when my folks would take us out to Libby's on Saturday nights. We'd have some food and we'd watch the bands play just a few yards from the stage. We were the priviledged few who sat in the Beaver booth.

Oh, you heard me. The Beaver booth. My mom was a sales rep for the local country radio station, The Beaver 101 FM. I don't think I knew that the word beaver was a double entendre until I was in high school. Folks down here in Texas think it's a hoot whenever I talk about it. Especially their annual remote broadcasts called The Show Us Your Beaver Summer. That one always gets a big laugh.

So, yeah, we'd all sit in the Beaver booth and listen to the sub-par acts do their covers of Garth Brooks, Patsy Cline, and Alabama songs. Saturday night was the good night. Fridays were open mike, so anyone with a sequined jacket and a microphone could get up there and belt out, "These Boots are Made for Walkin".

That's pretty much what I think of when I think of my first boots. I bought my second pair today, after weeks of soul-searching and trying to figure out if I wear a 6-C or a 7-B. By the way, thanks mom. I can credit your genetics for my having to search high and low for a boot that is wide enough to accomodate my goofy pinkie toe knuckle.

Oh, these bad boys are sweeeeet. You can't tell from the picture, but the crocidile skin on the front is actually a greenish color, not brown. And I dig the little copper studs all around it. They make me feel like a real Texan. Yee-haw. Definitely an upgrade from 15 years ago.