The Soundtrack of Life, Part One

I have been going wild with music lately. Exchanging CDs with far-away friends and raiding my boyfriend's computer has enhanced my music collection by leaps and bounds.

Many of these new additions are songs that have been in my life for a long time, songs that once held a special meaning that has long been forgotten, or at least put aside. But as I listen to these tunes again now, the memories (and often tears of hysterical laughter) come flooding back. Here's a sampling of what I mean.

"Lollipop" by The Chordettes
This one goes way back to fourth grade and the heyday of the movie "Stand By Me." No one who has seen that movie could forget the image of Corey Feldman and Jerry O'Connell rambling down the train tracks singing that tune.

My pals Kelly and Krista and I liked the song so much that we started singing it during recess. We made up a dance routine, sang in harmony and performed for our friends. No one really ever came to watch, but we had a great time. By the end of the year, we had a whole show. My personal big song was "Great Balls of Fire," during which I would play "air piano" in the style of Jerry Lee Lewis.

"Don't Go Breaking My Heart" by Elton John and Kiki Dee
This song held no special significance with me until years after it originally came out, when Elton John re-recorded it with RuPaul. This was the year I was a sophomore in high school, when we all read "Julius Caesar" for English class.

One of the teachers (not mine) required her students to complete a project of some sort on the play but let them pick the format. Many made posters, some re-wrote the story, others did other things. Krista decided to write lyrics and insert them into an existing song, Weird Al-style. The song she chose was "Don't Go Breaking My Heart."

The teacher wanted her to sing it to the class, but she was a little shy, so, being the good friend and ham that I was, I offered to assist, even though it was not my class. Together, we put on a real show, bringing in a tape of Elton and RuPaul (not the best singalong version, for the record), dressed in togas and sang the ditty. I even remember most of the words.

Don't go stabbing his heart.
This knife's too dull to do that.
In the Senate on the Ides of March
Caesar will be out flat.

Brutus made up his mind.
He'll be on their side instead.
The conspirators are all ready,
And JC will be dead.

Caesar, he never knew it. (He never knew it).
We'll go on with our plan, with Casca's "speak hands."
Caesar, he never knew it. (He never knew it).
Calpurnia's dream was all that it seemed.
Oh, oh, it was all that it seemed.

So don't go stabbing his heart.
I won't go stabbing his heart.
Don't go stabbing his heart.

"She's Always A Woman" and "Only The Good Die Young" by Billy Joel
Our sophomore year was a big one for parody songs, and, for some reason, Billy Joel. For whatever reason, Krista and I got on this kick of writing parodies and couldn't stop.

One of these songs ended up being "He's Always A Woman," which was about a friend of ours. Thinking back, it was a little mean, but it was never intended to be. I had meant it to be gentle ribbing, but the subject of the song, unfortunately, was not as amused as I had hoped. Then again, I suppose writing a song about a guy who waxes his legs and dates Lorena Bobbitt isn't really complimentary.

The other began as simply a title out of my philosopical-for-a-15-year-old mind. "Only The Young Die Good," with lyrics by Krista, ended up becoming a song about another friend of ours who liked a trumpet player who was in band with us. The highlight of that tune was a line demanding that the guy's current girlfriend stick her head in a bucket of paint.

"Apache" by Jorgen Ingman
This song was part of a Billboard compilation that my friend Darcey had bought and brought along when a group of us went camping the week after graduation. The CD insert described the instrumental ditty and encouraged listeners to pay attention to the "whizzing arrow" sound. The song was so cheesy that we got into it and eventually started ducking the arrows.

The song became the highlight of many "you had to be there" moments that week, and hearing it now makes me laugh at them all over again.

"Owner of a Lonely Heart" by Yes
Lonely heart. Those two words were never so funny as they were after a few of us more snarky gals on the high school newspaper staff read a poem by one of our colleagues about his quest for love.

He was a nice enough person, but "Lurk," as we dubbed him, was undeniably creepy. He was one of those guys who was so desperate that it made him even less attractive than he already was. He must have asked 30 girls to the prom. I guess I've got to hand it to him; he was brave.

Anyway, he wrote these poems which I suppose were heartfelt and sincere but really came off as trite and cheesy. The favorite among the snarky staffers was "My Lonely Heart," although I can't remember if that's the one that had the immortal phrase, "you asked if I had a quarter and told me to call someone who cares."

I wonder what happened to that guy. My guess is, he's either just as creepy as before, or he's ended up rich with a Playboy model as a wife.


Isn't it funny how music can hold such memories?