The Elusive Song Lyrics

If you have never eaten at Jason’s Deli you are missing out. While I can devour a Spinach Veggie Wrap with ease, DH is partial to the California Club. But the food is only part of the reason we frequent Jason’s Deli. Mostly, we go for the music. They play the very best songs from the 80’s: the songs you love, but forgot existed.

One not easily forgotten number is Prince’s "Little Red Corvette". My friends and I could not get enough of this song in 1983. I’ll never forget a summer night when Julie and I were out on her trampoline in the backyard singing the lyrics acapella. Come on you remember them, so sing with me, I guess I shoulda known, by the way U parked your car sideways, that it wouldn’t last. See U’re the kinda person that believes in makin’ out once. Love 'em and leave 'em fast…But it was Saturday night, I guess that makes it all right... If I may interject and point out to my children, parents and Sunday School class: Saturday night never makes it all right, and I did not believe that then, or now, or at anytime in between.

Anyway, all was just fine until we got to the chorus. Julie started at the top of her lungs, Pay the rent collect, Baby you’re much 2 fast. And as I softened my voice, not certain I heard her correctly, she continued, Pay the rent collect, U need a love that’s gonna last. How she ever confused little red corvette with pay the rent collect, well who knows. But man was it funny!

Perhaps it was almost as entertaining as the Kenny Chesney song I botched on our Saturday night date with friends. DH, in addition to jazz, enjoys Kenny Chesney. He was introduced to the country artist on a midwinter play-some-golf-where-it-is-warm road trip. Upon DH’s return he downloaded several of Kenny Chesney’s songs from iTunes

On Saturdays while doing his Honey Do List, he plays them and sings along. Sometimes, he even sings real loud and we dance. He does this so often that I thought I knew every word to “When the Sun Goes Down”. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way that when the sun goes down, we’ll actually be “groovin.”

Groovin' sounds fun and all, but I thought it was something else. I thought this because when DH sings the song, he always sings something else. I know now that it is not because he doesn’t know the words, but because he thinks he’s funny, or cute, or sexy, or something. When DH sings the song to me, he always replaces “groovin’” with another verb. One commonly used by building contractors as they described the process with which they adhere dry wall screws. And that is how I thought the song went. So that is how I sang it. On Saturday night. At the top of my lungs. In front of all our friends.

Getting Old: AM Talk Radio and Jazz

My DH just celebrated his 40th birthday. I'm married to someone much older than I am. Okay, he is only two years and three months older, but older is older. Personally, I'd like to think that despite his unfortunate birthday, I am still quite young. While there are many times DH finds me to be a bit juvenile, he will admit that I can also act too mature for my age.

For example, I love to listen to Rush Limbaugh, Dr. Laura, and Glenn Beck. DH finds my talk radio addiction mildly humorous. He believes I should have waited until I was at least forty to be an AM talk radio junkie. By his count I started approximately ten years too soon. I'm just hoping (once again this year) to finally get XM Radio in the Yukon for my birthday. I detest that loud, fuzzy AM radio static I hear every time I drive by any sort of interference, such as a car with an antenna or a house with a microwave. It is so shrill and someday, it's going to ruin my hearing. I have no idea why my usually generous DH has held out on me, year after year, regarding this gift.

But I guess I've held out on DH as well, since I have yet to give him any kind of present for his regrettable birthday. It is hard to know what to buy the elderly. Even though he is old now, he aged way too fast while in his thirties too. I wish he would have waited to fall in love with jazz until after my funeral. Though I'm pretty sure he fell in love with Diana Krall first, and the jazz music adoration was just part of the package.

He's lucky I'm such a confident and secure woman, because Diana Krall is sultry. I know many wives that would be very jealous of their own DH buying every album Ms. Krall ever produced, travelling across the country to see her in concert twice in a 2-month period, hanging out in some dark alley of New York City for two hours after her concert just to watch her slip into a car with Elvis Costello (what does she see in him?), and watching "Diana Krall: Live in Paris" over and over and over again. Actually, when I think about it like that, if I weren't so tall and leggy with long blonde tresses and a musical prodigy myself, I would be jealous!

All right, so you know I'm not blonde. I must confess, I'm not tall either. And sadly, I have never, ever been referred to as "leggy." Well since I'm being so truthful, you should also know that even though D2 insists I need to try out for American Idol (don't you see why I just love her?) anyone who is not my elementary school-aged offspring, would never suggest such tryouts would be in my best interest.

So why am I not jealous of DH's affection for Diana Krall? Have you heard that lady sing? Her voice is getting worse every day. Frankly, I don't know how she sells any CD's. For the most part, her music sounds like that high-pitched AM radio static. Weird, huh?