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What's on my mind
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What's on my mind
  I’ve been having the worst time lately, thinking of anything to write columns about. There simply doesn’t seem to be anything in my head these days except fragmentary and largely nonsensical thoughts, and song lyrics. Maybe I don’t get out enough. It’s true that I get out as rarely as possible – more than 30 years of working outside the home have made staying at home sweet. There are songs about that, you know. I know several. But I did go to the grocery today (Sunday), and no columns leaped at me from the canned goods aisle or beckoned to me from the frozen food coolers.  It was a bad day to go to the store for a few things, by the way – I forgot it was Valentine’s Day. Kroger was overrun with frantic lovers (I guess) and the Valentine’s candy display looked as if looting and rioting had taken place before I arrived. Glad I missed it. Here’s one thought I had while store-going: Kroger marks parking slots nearest the store not only for disabled people, but also for pregnant women. It’s a nice idea, but the pregnant slots are nearly always empty. The only time I’ve ever noticed anyone parking there, it’s been men in pickup trucks, and once a man on a motorcycle.  I imagine their thinking (if they do any) is, it’s actually illegal to park in a spot marked for a handicapped person, and they could get a ticket. But there’s no law that says close parking spots have to be maintained for pregnant women, so it’s safe to park there. Boy, wait’ll they run into some hot, tired, cranky pregnant woman someday. Her feet hurt, her lower back hurts, she has to pee really bad (for the fifth time in the last hour), she’s in a hurry and hormones have done to her what crystal meth might do to a howler monkey.  On the other hand, those parking spots always look really attractive to me these days. I won’t park in them, but it does occur to me that they either weren’t there back when I was pregnant, or I ignored them because I didn’t need them then. I felt terrific when I was pregnant. My nose was wet and my coat was glossy. I walked for miles and miles.  Maybe Kroger should consider marking some more parking spots for people who, while blessedly un-handicapped, really don’t feel nearly as terrific as they did 27 years ago. That won’t fit on a sign, however, and even if they did, some 27-year-old guy in a pickup would probably park there. See, those are the kinds of things that are wafting about in my head these days. It’s even worse now, back from the store and writing in a room with the windows open and listening to the mockingbirds practice outside. We’ve had so much cold, rainy weather that the sunshine and open windows and mockingbird songs are even more heart-wrenchingly beautiful than usual. It’s so hopeful outside today. There are big, sticky buds swelling on trees, and squirrels eating them off the trees, and oxalis creeping up through the grass to bloom its little purple flowers everywhere.  The weather pundits say a cold front will pass through tonight, bringing high winds and much cooler temperatures tomorrow, so there’s a touch of wistfulness in my hopefulness. And millions of songs, about spring and winter and hope and flowers and the wind, which of course they call Maria. Given the number of song lyrics in my head, and the dearth of anything else to build a good, solid column from, I am forced to consider the possibility that song lyrics have, over the years, have pushed a lot of other stuff out of my brain. I think I can prove it. I learned algebra, trigonometry and geometry in 1977 and 1978. Here’s just a tiny number of the hit songs that played on radios in those years:  1978: “Tonight's the Night,” Rod Stewart “Fly Like an Eagle,” Steve Miller Band  “Don't Leave Me This Way,” Thelma Houston “Dancing Queen,” Abba “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing,” Leo Sayer “Margaritaville,” Jimmy Buffet “Sir Duke,” Stevie Wonder “Hotel California,” Eagles “So Into You,” Atlanta Rhythm Section “Easy,” Commodores 1978 “Shadow Dancing,” Andy Gibb “Stayin' Alive,” Bee Gees  “Boogie Oogie Oogie,” A Taste Of Honey “Lay Down Sally,” Eric Clapton “Miss You,” Rolling Stones “It’s a Heartache,” Bonnie Tyler “We Are The Champions / We Will Rock You,” Queen “Short People,” Randy Newman  “Deacon Blues,” Steely Dan “Running on Empty,” Jackson Browne I know the lyrics to all those songs. I don’t know any of the algebra, trigonometry or geometry I learned in the same years. See what I’m talking about? I don’t know how to stop remembering song lyrics, because I don’t know how I memorize them to begin with. I just do, and now I’m worried about it. If I learn many more new songs, I could lose the ability to add columns of simple numbers in my head. Damn. Too late.  |
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