Sunday, December 21, 2008

do not go gentle into that groovy night

Friday night the paternal side of my immediate family drove all night to Michigan, braving snow and wind and doughnut pit stops. About midnight I was driving through West Virginia, and everyone else was asleep. I was listening to the radio, very low, and balanced all the way to the front and left, and trying to find a station that wasn't playing either country, gospel, or classic rock. I finally stopped on one that was playing U2's New Year's Day and then Sinead O'Connor's Nothing Compares 2 U. I think Sinead O'Connor and U2 were among the very first batch of cassette tapes (cassette tapes!) that I ever bought when I was trying to grow up and listen to cool music. (Rounding out the list: Janet Jackson, REM, and a band called Icehouse that I bet you don't remember.) And I definitely recorded the video of Nothing Compares 2 U on our beta player (beta player!) and watched it obsessively.

So, I'm driving along, happily listening to Sinead, and a commercial came on. Well, first there was a commercial for Pocahantas Mine (which apparently has underground positions to fill immediately, great benefits) and then there was a commercial for the radio station itself, Groovy 94.1. It went something like, "Don't you hate it when you get into your car and the kids have been messing with the presets, and you turn on the radio, and it sounds like this: [punk guitar riff]? Turn it back to Groovy 94.1! The music from your generation!"

And I realized with horror that I was listening to an oldies station. An oldies station that plays music from my lifetime. An oldies station that not only assumes that I have kids, but assumes that I have kids old enough to listen to crazy rock music that is too loud for my sensitive, decrepit ear drums.

I didn't know what to do. Accept my fate? Change the station to country? Try to find a station playing the Jonas Brothers? I just shut off the radio and pretended it didn't happen, but I'm still feeling a little shaky.


  1. Last night Josh was playing a cd that was scratched to see if it would skip... it was playing through our TV and I was in the kitchen chained to the stove so I had no choice but to listen. It was a band called "X" and I thought to myself "what the h*&& is this? This is not music, she doesn't even sing on key. I can't wait until this cd is over." Those words are literally stolen from my own mother's mouth. It was a "senior moment" as my husband calls it, along with calling me an "Old Fuddy Duddy." Michelle, you are not alone in your shakiness.

  2. I am really glad you didn't try to find the Jonas Brothers...

  3. If I spend the rest of the day with, "Noooothing compares. No--THING yoooooooou" in my head, I'm going to personally tell Sean how much you want to play giant robot.

  4. your eardrums are not decrepit! please. they call crap from the 80's "vintage" these days. it used to require at least 30 years before anything was vintage! wait... oh right, it's going to be 2009. crap. well, at least we don't need hearing aids, right?