by Molly Jo Realy (@RealMojo68)
How many of you are fist-pumpin’ to the beat? C’mon. That song. That go-get-’em, conquering, sports-theme-y, you-got-this song . . . DundundunDUNDUNdunDUN. Yeah. That one.
Well, anyway, in your head, I want you to imagine the greatest celebratory music you can conjure. Got it? Awesome.
Keep it playing in the background, and read on.
It’s no secret that I have a new website. But I’m not sure all of you know FMD and NIP are undergoing some cosmetic surgery as well. A little NIP, a little tuck. (Ooh. NIP. See what I did there?)
Now, … read the rest. . .
I have a new favorite band. At least they’re in my Top 3.
You may not have heard of them before this, but you will.
They’re The Strumbellas. Simon Ward, Jon Hembrey, Darryl James, Jeremy Drury, David Ritter and Isabel Ritchie.
I’ve known of them for a while now. They hail from Toronto, Canada. That alone makes them worthwhile in my book. Pretty much all good things (sans mayor) come out of Toronto.
Okay, it doesn’t hurt that I know a family member of the drummer.
So yeah. There’s that.
But even without that connection, I really like this music.… read the rest. . .
For the last several years, certain songs will find their place on my Favorites playlist. Some are inspirational, some are aerobic, and some are just plain great to listen to.
Usually by February, a playlist for the year has built itself. I don’t often give much thought to what songs are added. I just suddenly realize this or that tune means much to me and so it’s natural to add it to the current listening selection.
I’m already building this year’s soundtrack. It’s positively incomplete which means it has much potential. But so far, here’s what I’ve got:
2014: The … read the rest. . .
I love driving at Twilight. I’d forgotten that until I started working again. Driving home in the near-dark with Sinatra playing through the speakers is a nightly experience I consistently relish.
In the Winter rains, the fresh air and delicate winds bring a certain feel with them.
There’s something quite magical about the mix of neon and starlight, of headlights and stoplights reflecting off the hard pavement and sidewalks.
When I was otherwise unemployed, my driving was nearly confined to only the sandy desert roads less maintained by the City. Now I traverse Main Street each day. With Winter on … read the rest. . .
Davy Jones is dead. For some of you, this means nothing. But for those of you who get me, who grew up in the 70’s, who liked bubblegum music before it was bubblegum music… it means everything.
Davy Jones is dead.
And I’ll never be the same.
My memories of the Monkees are far more than being a young girl sitting on the floor on summer afternoons watching the TV. More than rushing home from school in time to catch a snack while singing along. They are milestone moments: connected to events, feelings, growing, being.
And now all these memories … read the rest. . .