Remember the Mix Tape? Back-in-the-day receiving a compilation of handpicked songs from a beau was the ultimate love letter. This person thought about you so much that they were willing to dedicate hours with their finger poised above the “stop” button on the cassette deck to create a playlist inspired by you. These musical musings were also a great way to gauge compatibility.
Whitney Houston’s, “I Wanna Dance with Somebody”… Go find someone else to dance with. I’m out.
“Turbo Lover” by Judas Priest is NOT a love song.
You had me at, “Love Cats” by The Cure
This past week the Nuggets Outfit hit the road for the 15 hour drive to Disney World (both directions). With the Lil Nuggets nestled all snug in their seats — visions from Kindles dancing in their heads — dad and I were left to entertain ourselves.
In the spirit of full disclosure, I’ve long known that my husband was a Metal Head in his youth. I even have photographic evidence, which the kids get endless hours of laughter from. His winning smile and witty humor easily allowed me to overlook this glaring flaw.
Until Ozzy’s Bone Yard.
You see, we’ve always agreed that the driver gets control of the tunes. Cold comfort for depriving them the opportunity to nap in the car. I can tolerate vocals that harken to the torture of cats, endless three chord abuse of guitars and misogynistic lyrics for a short trip. Anything over an hour or two and I’m banging my head… against a wall!
My Alternative tastes and New Wave sensibilities simply do not mesh with my man’s… um… lack of taste. We do agree on a few things, musically speaking. For example The Stones, Floyd and Nirvana. So I thought I’d put together a playlist that we could both enjoy for the drive.
I. Was. Wrong.
Who wouldn’t think that Billy Idol’s “Blue Highway” was a perfect road trip riff? My husband. “Route 66” by Depeche Mode… he put the kibosh on that too. He suggested… wait for it… Accept’s*, “Balls to the Wall.” The man even nixed Stevie Nicks. REALLY?! Landslide has gotten me through many a traffic jam.
What started out as an attempt to bond through ballads and kick-ass drivin’ tunes, turned into a questioning of our compatibility. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t that dramatic, but still.
Back when John Gill gave me my first Mix Tape I spent hours listening to ABC, Human League and The Violent Femmes solidify the fact that Michael Hutchence was right, they could “Never Tear Us Apart”. Turns out the Mix Tape, John and I got it all wrong. I was destined to fall for a Metal Head.
My 16 year old self would be mortified.
*Of note (because I am ever the champion of a cause) Accept band members are openly gay. Really they had a very progressive “message” even back in the 80’s when homophobic jerks openly spewed their hate so easily. NOH8!
Melissa and I can usually tolerate each other music tastes, but I get it. There are only 3 shows we can watch together on TV.
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I think we should get your husband and mine together, while you and I take a road trip of our own, listening in bliss to our 80’s New Wave!
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Seriously Jules! How did we end up with Metal Heads? Weren’t those the guys we ignored in high school? ha ha
Driver gets control of the tunes in our car, too. Thankfully my husband has mostly put to rest his metalhead ways and almost (almost!) likes my alternative tastes. We do agree on NPR, though.
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