You know how sometimes, not of your own volition, you hear the same song over and over (and over)?
I think what often happens to me is if I hear something enough, even if it's not my kind of music, at some point it just becomes so familiar that I catch myself singing it. I might even, just because of familiarity, start to think I like it.
I have President's Day off and spent Sunday evening at my parents' house. We had dinner and then watched Helen Mirren in this detective show we love on PBS. Sometimes I sleep here because it's nice to just hang out with them without time pressure and have the chance to read the paper or do the crossword over coffee with Betty in the morning.
When my brother was young, his bedroom was near both my parents' room and the kitchen. And he played his music shockingly loud. His music, which for a while was almost exclusively hard rock and heavy metal, was certainly not our parents' taste. But they're both pretty open minded.
Last summer, for example, I had a bunch of friends over for my birthday and I invited my parents as well so they could meet everyone. My iPod is my stereo, and my friend T had made me a birthday mix.
At some point the music stopped abruptly.
I looked over, and T and my dad were sitting on the couch, engaged in intense conversation. She was scrolling through my little white iPod. And then a Beastie Boys song came on. Turns out she was giving him a music lesson.
He later said, "I think your friend's music is kind of dreadful, but she seems like a lovely person."
So last night, when I walked into the kitchen, I encountered Betty at the stove singing her rendition of an old familiar tune.
"She was a fast machine."
Flipping over golden potato pancakes. "La la."
"Hmmm. Hmm hmm. She kept her motor clean. Ooh, la la."
Opens oven, peers in.
"She was the best damn woman that you've ever seen! La la la!"
Pulls out the broiled eggplant, starts putting it on a plate.
"Knocking me out! La la la! American thighs! La la."
AC/DC. I wonder if my brother knows.