Sunday, March 21, 2010

Noteworthy. Or not.

I'm making an e-confession for Paul because I learned something about him this week that I had never known before.  Probably because this is a fairly recent development.  Turns out his taste in music is not what I've always thought it was.  He has always been a big Neil Young or the BeeGees fan, but as we've been driving around lately, Paul has been turning on the radio to a particular radio station, 99.7, that basically only plays ten to fifteen songs.  Pop songs - super poppy pop songs.  And he has been singing along lustily with Ke$ha (who I have never heard of but who was on TV the other night singing her inexplicable hit "Blah, Blah, Blah"--Paul was agog that I had never heard it or of her), Fergie and the Black-Eyed Peas singing "Imma Be", that "Tik-Tok" song with the relentless beat, or the song with possibly the most insipid lyrics of all time that go something to the following effect:  "You can call me Mr. Flintstone 'cuz I'm gonna make your bed rock."  Classy, right?  There is another song that I've only heard once where a guy is comparing his, shall we call it affection, for a girl to the fast food experience, analogizing to IHOP, drive-thru, carry-out, etc.  I still don't quite understand the connections and frankly, I'm more than a little frightened to spend time thinking about it.

But I find it hilarious that Paul not only listens to this station while he commutes to work, but that he likes the songs and knows all the words even though he is more of a beat/music person and I am the one who pays attention to the lyrics.  In a way it's maybe like finding out that your spouse of almost-six years speaks Swahili on the side and you never knew about it.  Maybe not.  I'm kind of flabbergasted and cracking up over this quirk.  Even more so when Paul serenades me while driving in our car with phrases like "I love your sushi roll, hotter than wasabi, I race for your love, shake and bake Ricky Bobby" (if my mother is reading this post she will have no idea what those lyrics are about - don't worry mom, I'm trying not to post explicit stuff on here; these words don't mean anything to me either).

Paul just looked over my to see what I was typing about and informed me that our conversation about this the other night was confidential.  I told him not to worry, that I thought his penchant for pop beats is funny and I'm not judging.  He responded in classic form:  "It isn't good for my bad-boy image if you think this is funny.  I'd rather you were judging."  He was perhaps only half-joking.

8 comments:

  1. That is too funny. I'm with Paul though on liking the trashy music, but only for trying to spice up a car ride or working out. I try to listen to more appropriate music the rest of the time. Pretty soon he will break you down and you will want to dance a little to the beat :)

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  2. Hilarious! I actually started to listen to 99.7 and 94.9 right after my dad's heart attack - I wanted something mindless and not heavy. I listen to it 70% of the time in the car now!

    Ke$ha's Blah Blah Blah song is HORRIBLE though. And I agree with you, every time I hear "call me Mr Fintstone, I can make your bed rock" I shake my head.

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  3. lol, this instantly made me think of high school and a certain foursome's (ahem, all guys) ability to lip sync to the Backstreet Boy's "I Want it that Way" AND perform Britney Spears videos. Not naming any names here.

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  4. I think the information that Paul "has always been a big Neil Young or the BeeGees fan" is more embarrassing.

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  5. ALL of the songs you mentioned are on my running mix. I'm now sitting here hyperventilating with the thought of running. This is what pop music has done to me.

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  6. Don't worry...I think Paul is a thug.

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  7. funniest part of this story is that Paul thinks he has a bad boy image :)

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  8. This has to be one of your better posts...
    Paul, I had to stifle burst of laughter while sitting at my desk!

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