First of all, I believe that teaching must be getting to me. My AP kids finally spotted my wedding photo behind my desk and one of them guilelessly asked, “Wow, Mrs. McNasty, you look so… you know. Happy. Was that, like, the last time you smiled?”
Sigh.
Ok, so I’ve never denied being the absolutely whitest person I know. I can’t help it. It’s a serious pigmentation problem. Not only am I incapable of getting tanned, I also listen to show-tunes. And wear headbands. I’m on a first-name basis with the employees at my local grocery store. I watch Paula Deen for fun, folks. For real.
Whitest. Girl. Ever.
This was proved to me once again today as I was searching for music on itunes. First of all, this is what I downloaded:
Abba’s “Take a Chance on Me”, Chairmen of the Board’s “Give Me Just a Little More Time”, and Tom Petty’s “American Girl”.
See? Told you. So anyway. Because I’m musically retarded (deeply, incorrigibly and irrevocably, I’m afraid, just ask my long-suffering brother), I usually get my new tunes thusly: I hear a catchy song on the radio, and unmindful of traffic, speed limits or the ten-and-two rule, I fish a pen out of my purse and reach over the entire length of my car to scratch out the decipherable lyrics onto a pad of paper I have attached to the passenger-side visor (placed there for just this purpose). Then I veer back onto the road at 85 mph and resume driving as crappily as usually (seriously, I’m not a good driver. Probably because I view speed limits and other traffic signs as mere suggestions rather than enforceable laws. I got 29 “warnings” when I was 16 before getting my first official ticket). Eventually, when I accumulate ten or so “song scratchings,” I rip them off, take them inside and try to locate them on itunes. This is often problematic because a) I tend to write down whatever lyric I happen to hear, not necessarily the title lyrics or even the chorus and also b) because I can barely read my own handwriting under the best circumstances, and driving while writing does not help this. At all. Also? I have ZERO music sense, and I never recall musicians, bands or what all (two notable exceptions to this are Prince and Steely Dan….Whitest. Girl. Ever). My ipod is 650 songs full of complete fucking chaos. No one can grasp any connection between the musical selections, rendering me utterly without a specific “taste” in music. Hey, I like what I like. I never bothered going through a music phase in high school because I was in drama — though, I had a crush on Michael Crawford, the original Phantom of the Opera, and I fantasized about meeting Andrew Lloyd Webber. It was fucking sick. So I never “got into” rock, RnB, rap, goth, grunge, et al. I skipped that brand of angst.
Point being, I’d written down the following in an effort to actually locate a real honest-to-God song:
“Boot Spankin’ Love to Some Old Lady”
I mean. With a title like that, who WOULDN’T want to find that song?! And because I’m the whitest girl ever, I figured it was some smarmy black-guy way of describing hot lovin’ — you know, it was so good, it was “boot spankin!” Made your boots… spank? Together? In glee? I guess. I am hardly qualified to decipher culturally hip, African-American-in-origin, sexy-time descriptions. I even used it in a sentence once, between the time I scribbled it down and looking it up.
Needless to say, there is no such song. The real lyrics, which my White Girl ears misheard, are “WHO’S MAKING LOVE, to YOUR old lady…” Which is still, you have to admit, provocative, but not nearly so as “boot spankin’…” It’s by a guy named Johnny Taylor.
And I’m literally listening to him RIGHT NOW.
And I am happy.
I can vouch for the veracity of everything in this post, right down to the scratch pad in the car. Which reminds me, I really need to send you some new music.
This is how my music collection grows as well. I’ll hear a song in a store and write down whatever lyrics I can understand, then google them in quotes with the word “lyrics” after. Usually, the first hit is the song with the title. For example google:
“don’t kill me, can only make me stronger” lyrics
Up pops “Stronger” by Mr. West. Then it’s off to iTunes. You get the idea. Google is your friend with identifying songs.
@Phem: I know, you know all my terrible secrets.
@Jane: HAH! I knew I could’t be the only one!!
Remind me never to get in a car with you. It was bad being in a car with a friend with some very acute anger management problems. In fact, a few weeks ago I made the Spouse pull over because he, too, was having some anger management issues. About Daniel Day-Lewis. No kidding. Well, rather Daniel Day-Lewis than me, and he did have a point, anyway, just to say that I, on the other hand, am a very law-abiding driver, especially when I am not listening to audiobooks and distracted into removing people’s side mirrors.
Do you sing the wrong song lyrics all the time? Even music snobs do that. I know, I live with one of those music snobs.
I think I might have to thumb wrestle you for the “Whitest Girl Ever” title. I also do not tan; I just burn, then fade to pasty all over again. I know everyone at my grocery store, all my delivery guys and I’m obsessed with the Food Network, though I prefer Giada and Rachel because their recipes are more realistic time-wise and calorie-wise. And my music library consists mainly of girly singers. In fact the only real criteria for me to like a song is if I can sing along with it. I think the only thing I ever downloaded from itunes was a kareoke version of Baby It’s Cold Outside. It’s nice to know I’m not alone in the universe!
BenFranklintheCracker
@TDEC: Yes. It’s wise of you to never get in a car with me. People who don’t know me and who foolishly take me up on a ride usually look green and sickish in minutes.
@Listy: You know, I rarely understand the lyrics the first time and so I have no clues as to whether I’m singing them right/wrong. Until some unfeeling bastard *COUGHephemeristCOUGH* points it out to me. Like, who knew it was, “Revved up like a deuce in the middle of the night/blinded by the light?” I thought it was: “Wrapped up like a douche in the middle of the night”… Which, I should point out,is a bit more interesting.
@Ben: Hurrah! The whitest wrestling match EVER! Also, I do love Giada and Sandra Lee and Nigella, but I could happily kill Rachel Ray in a knife fight. I don’t know why. I just know I’d be ok seeing her struggle for breath. IT’S NOT “EVOO”!!! IT’S “EXTRA VIRGIN OLIVE OIL”!! YOU DON’T HAVE TO ABBREVIATE EVERYTHING YOU SAY!! GAH!!!
There’s a reason I named my blog WHITEgirlwithafatass! We sound like music soul mates. I use to listen to Phantom every morning on the bus to school, my somber face leaning against the cold window in a funk.
This year I got the soundtrack to the movie version of Phantom and loaded it on my ipod. The other morning I blearred up during ‘Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again’ while I rode the A train, my somber face leaning against the germ ridden window in a funk.
That’s 14 YEARS of PHANTOM FOLKS!
Ha! I went with Jellykean/WGWAFA to see the Phantom of the Opera movie screening. Granted it was free but still… And in the interest of full disclosure, I used to have terrible musical tastes, which now that I know a thing or three I can couch in the guise of “nostalgia” or “cheesiness” or what have you. But like I revealed to Ms. Fras, I read an article about a London concert staging of the musical “Chess” and was compelled to download “One Night In Bangkok” and “I Know Him So Well” from iTunes, so clearly my hands are unclean.
Also: Rachel Ray should Disappear entirely. Eff her and her EVOO-America Runs on Dunkins-chipmunk cheeked whatsit. GO AWAY!!!!!!
I also listed to Phantom until my tape (that’s right, tape!) broke. Then I bought the CD which I still have. The book is in tatters but I still love it. That and Les Mis. I will always love those two musicals. I have to admit (and please don’t throw anything at me!) that I like Rachel Ray. I think she’s sincere, unlike Sandra Lee who is sooo fake. Why does she put on so much make up just to go to the kitchen?! It freaks me out.
BFF
@all: *teary* I love that I managed to inadvertently find so many showtune nerds to share my adult life with in the blogosphere! I LOVE YOU ALL!! Oh, and Phem? You KNOW it’s all your fault. I still remember the day you brought home the Andrew Lloyd Webber cd and got me hooked.
Sorry BFF, looks like so far you’re outvoted with the Rachel Ray question. She’ll just have to die. In an oily strangulation of EVOO. With Phem pinching her chipmunk cheeks mercilessly.
@Fras: Yes, but like a good dealer I got you hooked but I didn’t get hooked on my own shit. Now you’re jonesing for that sweet music of the night, getting the music of the night sweats, and I’ve moved on.
Oh, Susan, we should’ve spent more time together. I never knew of your affection for showtunes. Or your hatred for Rachel Ray. (Does anyone on this earth have a more annoying voice?)
When my students ask me what kind of music I have on my iPod, I generally mutter something about “listening to all kinds of music.” I dare not say, “showtunes from every Broadway musical, like, EVER,” lest I lose all credibility.
Also…EVERYONE thought that the line went “Wrapped up like a douche in the middle of the night.” Because THAT’S WHAT IT SOUNDS LIKE. Even when you know the correct lyrics, it doesn’t sound like “Revved” or “deuce.” I’m just sayin’.
@Phem: Yes. Excellent dealer, terrible sibling.
@Hotsy: Phew. Glad I wasn’t alone. Also, why didn’t we hang out more?
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