Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Yo. Mentioned in my last post that while I was on The Sabbatical, I completely revamped my workout. Let me expound, shall I? Remember Nigel? Quit your yackin’ and do more push-ups Nigel? Yah – him. Well, when I finished up his boot(y) camp class, I got all revved up to make some tough changes in my fitness regime.
But when one starts down the path of the more, shall we say “aggressive,” workout, one cannot get agro to Frank Sinatra: Fly Me to the Moon just doesn’t have the forceful undertone that I am looking for. Neither does Witchcraft. Sammy Davis? Nope. Wicked soundtrack? Ummm, not quite (though I know every word). Ira Glass and This American Life podcasts? Unfortunately not. I’d go on, but I would only further embarrass myself. And you – because you are supposed to be my friends.
Hmmm. What’s a suburban chick to do for more inspiring workout music? Well, maybe I’ll try this rap stuff (she says with gleeful naiveté)! OK wait – I have to be honest. I actually started with Pandora and typed “Top 40” into the station search engine. That’s where I discovered Pink. And Beyonce!! And then I found Fergie (who I adoringly call Isabella when I am having senior moments), and she lead me to the Black Eyed Peas. Ooooooooh. Now what is this stuff?? My foot starts tapping… By the way, I know what you’re thinking. YELLLLL-O. What rock has this gal been under for 15 years? I can answer that! Firmly planted in the world of American Musical Theatre. And NPR. Sprinkle in some Dixie Chicks here and there, and that about covers it.
Anyway, from the Black Eyed Peas, I just went cuckoo. Where has this stuff been all my life? I think I remember telling my friend Nick about 8 years ago that I didn’t like hip hop and rap because they were too cacophonous. (Yes, I actually used the word cacophonous – so sad.) Dude. Really?? Just how repressed was I? Can someone shed some light on this because I really don’t remember being quite that, umm, rigid. Yah – you heard me! Girlfriend’s having a little confession here, ‘k?
HELL YAH! So all the sudden, I’m all about iTunes and my latest gangsta fix, though just to keep myself real, I like to screw up their names. Oh, alright already! I screw up the names because I am a naïve white suburban girl, and then the names just stick. B.oB.? Just Bob, please. It’s much easier for me to remember. Usher? I call him Smiley Guy. Will.i am? He’s “the Obama song guy.” And for you mom’s, he’s also the Big and Chunky hippo from Madagascar.
He also happens to be brilliant. Damn, all of this stuff is brilliant, and I just wasn’t listening. I sure wish I had been because I missed out on some pretty amazing messages from this genre. But I’m listening now, and that’s what’s cool. I’m pushing 40 and learning things about life that I can actually relate to. So if ya’ll will excuse me now, I’m going to put on my old, foamy 1980s headphones from my Sony Walkman, and get jiggy with Snoopy.