Tune of thought

Excuse me if I'm not myself today, but I recently found out that Beck is a Scientologist, and I need some time to take it in.

In other music news, Mr. Dub recently introduced me to Blonde Redhead, and there is no turning back. Bliss in melodic form, my friends.

Finally, in self-congratulatory non-news, remember Eliza? Well, my quarterly column is getting rave reviews from up to five people. Want to make it 10? Go here and find a place to buy the summer issue, which - according to mass amounts of emails I've received - is Eliza's best yet. Do it.

Or you could live life like Kenny Rogers and post a comment about why you should receive a free Eliza subscription. Leave your remarks by midnight Sunday (CST), and you might be a winner.

Now, what's on your mind?

Change of tune

I went to my first rummage sale yesterday. It wasn't as good as I expected it to be. As promised, it was enormous, and there were tons of people who seemed to enjoy the rummaging. But despite the rumors I'd heard, there wasn't an amazing amount of really nice stuff to be found. Instead, there were a lot of shoulder pads.

And when you tell me something is going to be good, I start to daydream a future that is so unbelievable - "Look at this brand-new Gucci jacket for ONE dollar!" - that I actually feel like it already happened to me. And when it doesn't, I feel deceived.

So despite the few good toys I found for my Miss, I got home in a tired, disappointed mood, though all the kind comments and stories from yesterday cheered me up quite a bit. (And frankly made me embarrassed. You do all know I'm just regular, right?)

Then, Mr. Dub had to work late. And since we're a one-car family until the end of the month, I had to wait by the phone to find out when he needed to be picked up and whether or not that would be followed by dinner at our friends' house. (The answer, ultimately, was no, for which I offer my continued apologies to the hostess.)

When we finally got the call to pick him up, I hurriedly put together a "maintenance bag" for Miss Dub as her cranky hour coincides with sunset. We then set off in the car, bad moods respectively intact.

As we sat at a stop light, our stereo began to play Feist's "1, 2, 3, 4." Call it overplayed if you will, but its catchy sound is still honey to my ears, and I found myself happily singing along. Suddenly, I noticed a tapping sound from behind me. I looked back to find Miss Dub dancing in her car seat and flinging her favorite bunny back and forth to the beat. This made me even happier so I started to sing louder and clap wildly to encourage her moves.

Suddenly, I noticed the woman next to me was staring. I tried to look away, but before I could, I realized she was smiling. And not just any smile but the kind of smile that said, "That just made my day."

And I thought, "That's it? That's all it takes to change your mood? A mother and baby dancing to a silly song?"

But like a teenager girl pursuing her crush, I couldn't be stopped. I kept singing, and Miss Dub kept dancing. As we streamed passed the stalled traffic going the other direction, I started to really rock out. I began pointing, smiling, waving and honking my horn. I encouraged Miss Dub to pump her fists. Not everyone noticed, but those who did instantly smiled. Some waved back. Others honked. And I could tell we were making their day, even if it was just because we looked ridiculous and would make a great story to share over the dinner table.

Finally, the song came to a close. We rounded a corner where a bright orange sun was setting against a pale purple sky. I giggled. Miss Dub squealed.

And you know what? It made my day.


... Until some lady hit our car and fled the scene while we were out to dinner. But we pulled a CSI and managed to piece together who done it. And it still didn't ruin my mood.

a distant shimmer

Sometimes when you force yourself to watch a few minutes of The Singing Bee before feeling a little sick to your stomach, you are ordered by Mr. Dub to make a more palatable playlist while he is busy creating a collage.

And sometimes these are the songs you pick, just because they're sentimental favorites ... and few new sounds:

Veruca Salt & Franck Black - Vincent Delerm

On The Radio - Regina Spektor

Feel The Pain - Dinosaur Jr.

Forever For Her (Is Over For Me) - The White Stripes

Bizarre Love Triangle - Frente!

Sleep The Clock Around - Belle & Sebastian

I Know - Fiona Apple

Fake Plastic Trees - Radiohead

American Tune - Paul Simon

Is This Love? - Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!

Do You Realize?? - The Flaming Lips

Heartbeats - Jose Gonzalez

Bright as Yellow - The Innocence Mission

Lullaby - The Cure

When They Really Get To Know You They’ll Run - Pedro The Lion

The Story - Brandi Carlile

Caring is Creepy - The Shins

Seven - Sunny Day Real Estate

Rue St. Vincent - Wes Anderson

What is your most sentimental tune?

(Mine is Here Comes your Man by the Pixies, but it just didn't jive with my mellow mix, which I dubbed, "a distant shimmer" for no real reason other than it makes my random playlist seem cooler.)

Oh and what's the new song you can't get enough of? I must admit, last month it was Fergie's Glamorous. Mostly because I want to know what "flossy" means.

Sometimes I have more in common with Singing Bee viewers than I'd like to think.