My dad goes through obsessive phases where he’ll listen to the same thing over and over again for weeks. And it’s not just one band or one album that he’ll put on repeat–he’ll put the same SONG on repeat. One time it was “My Heart Will Go On” after he saw Titanic. Another time it was the Phil Collins song from Tarzan, “You’ll Be In My Heart.”
My best friend and I once went on a camping trip to Lake George with him and he brought two greatest hits albums: Diana Ross and Rod Stewart. As a direct result of this trip, one of my favorite songs is now “Maggie May.” A couple years ago he made a mix that included “Like A Virgin.” I don’t know what that was about.
Anyway, here are some songs that I especially associate with the padre:
How creepy is that?!?! The three ladies in red completely freak me out with those repetitions of “sexy, sexy lady, you just drive me crazy.” I feel like Julio Iglesias is holding them captive and feeding them various flavors of Slim Fast spiked with mind-controlling drugs.
This next one took a long time for me to decide on. He has one of those, like, three disc albums by Chicago, so every song reminds me of him. But I just heard this song in the grocery store. I don’t know if anyone else is like this, but when I hear a song I like, I get completely distracted. I can’t focus on anything else, especially not a conversation. I drop everything to sing while pumping a fist. Perhaps the best lyrics ever: “Couldn’t stand to be kept away, just for the day, from your bod-ay.” The cheese aisle was subjected to my rendition of this a couple weeks ago:
One of his big things is theme songs. He loves the Superman theme song, but if I hear it I literally have an anxiety attack because I worked at Six Flags one year and when you’re stationed at the Superman ride you hear it your entire shift. Plus I got scolded hardcore when I was working the Superman ride one day–I let a girl through who was blatantly three feet tall and would have been ejected from the ride. It wasn’t really my fault, but I won’t get into it.
The one thing I do have to thank my dad for, though, is playing The Rolling Stones over and over again when I was little. “Paint It Black” used to freak me out to no end. But if I had to choose one song to describe myself, it’d probably be this: