This past Christmas, during a group outing to the mall to put Christmas money to good use, C's mom wound up buying The Story So Far, a 2-CD "Best Of" compilation of Rod Stewart hits. My outward reaction to this purchase was cool, non-committal enthusiasm. Standard hipster stuff. She asked me what I thought. I said, "Yeah, good." I may have smiled. If others around me were watching, they would have gathered from my reaction that I was clearly far too cool to be listening to the likes of Rod Stewart, but at the same time they would have seen that I was considerate enough not to show my smug contempt for the CD to my Mother-in-Law, who I obviously respected and admired. Yeah, it's a lot to put into a reaction, but I think I pulled it off.

Inwardly, however, my reaction was: "Holy shit! You must buy that puppy RIGHT NOW, because if you don't, I will!" I knew I couldn't actually be caught carrying the CD to the counter myself, but I'd find a way to get that thing, even if it meant smuggling it out of the store in my pants. (And yes, I realize that there are several layers of disturbing to the act of putting a Rod Stewart CD down your pants.)

It's still not clear exactly how it happened, but somehow a few of the tracks from that compilation wound up in my iTunes library. It's almost as if, while nobody was looking, somebody feverishly opened the plastic wrapping on that purchase before any of the other CDs he (or she) had bought that day and ripped a few important gems to my computer. You know, stuff like Hot Legs, Maggie Mae, Da Ya Think I'm Sexy? and Some Guys Have All the Luck. Weird. I'm sure whoever it was had their reasons.

So now, whenever one of those songs pops up in my play-list, I tolerate it. I give it the courtesy of a listen. But it's not like I sing along or bob my head or dance a little in my chair ... or anything ridiculous like that. Sheesh. It's just music, people.

On a related note, I was listening to Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me this weekend—because nothing goes better with biscuits and eggs on a beautiful Sunday morning than a little Paula Poundstone snarkiness—and learned that '80s music is now being marketed by radio stations as "Oldies." Which means, brothers and sisters—because I feel this needs emphasis—that if you're approximately 32 years of age or over, the music of "your time," the stuff you may first remember listening to—Cyndi Lauper, Van Halen, Pat Benetar, Duran Duran, Chicago, Huey Lewis and the News—is now officially "Oldies" music.

And, of course, Rod Stewart falls into this category too ... but let's face it, he's been "Oldies" for some time now.

link to this | comments (6) | File:  Age  Family  Music  Pop_Culture