My brain decided I needed an especially chaotic earworm, and so this ditty has been stuck on my mental soundtrack for the past three days. Early Frank is some of the wildest Frank. 💖
A droll little bit of conversation about creative usage of vegetable emojis inspired my brain to pop this old favorite onto today's Mental Soundtrack. After all, if you call any vegetable, the chances are good the vegetable will respond to you. At least, according to Frank. 🍆 🧄 🎃 🤣
And then an old friend from my college radio days who I told about the youngun who didn't know from Frank immediately responded with this song, so now it's on my mental soundtrack as well. TBH I think it's a safe bet the youngun wouldn't know from Steely Dan either. Or maybe even Aretha. Ah well, time flies when you're having. ("Typo" intended.)
On my mental soundtrack today, because the sweet young medical professional who I consulted with the other day had never heard of Frank Zappa, let alone his classic musical rant about woowoo-purveyors, making me feel even more of a geezer than my CrankyBod was doing. 🤣
Somehow this musical nostalgia blast from my childhood past popped up on one of my feeds recently. Though I don't remember this particular video clip from a Smothers Brothers show, my whole family were big fans of their music and show back in the 1960s. The cheeky/trippy way they staged this mime-for-the-tape performance is so typically clever. And so dang '60s.
This number snuck onto my mental soundtrack today when I realized that I have no tasks requiring intensive braining this weekend ... though I reckon my mouth will be on vacation too except for snacking out while screwing around on the computer. 😸
This old favorite is back again on my mental soundtrack, ever since I unearthed one of my Steely Dan concert swag shirts while unpacking (see previous toot for photo).
More songs about finding/creating home, inspired by my recent move. Graham Nash meant this as a domesstic-bliss lovesong to Joni Mitchell, but I'm taking it as a song of self-love, of finding myself worthy of living in a home that supports and protects me... as every human being deserves.
On my mental soundtrack tonight: this devastatingly beautiful song in which packing up to move is not only a consequence of but also a metaphor for the upheaval of a broken relationship. Fortunately my upcoming move is far more joyful, but I've had my share of the more painful type too.
My brain responded to my rainy-day doorway camera activity by insisting I put this song on my mental soundtrack - even though the view out my door is nowhere near as entertaining as John Fogarty's imagination.
My brain went diving into the memory banks for a song that captured my hopes and fears for the coming year, and I wound up with this hit from the depths of the Thatcher/Reagan era. Still waiting for that "end to need, and the politics of greed," still trying to find ways to sow the seeds of love.
On my mental soundtrack today, in honor of Tom Smothers, who left an indelible imprint on my sense of humor, not to mention my political awareness. His memory for a blessing.
My brain's inner smartass, after several sessions of browsing Twitch streamers, has gone and gotten this song stuck in my head on repeat, so now I must exorcise it by posting it to the Mastoverse. You're welcome. 🤣
My Mental Soundtrack, off the air for a few weeks, springs back to life today - featuring an old favorite returning to my brain due to personal current events. Especially the lines:
"There's good points, some bad points
But it all works out, though I'm a little freaked out..."
A wonderful live set by an artist justly called a legend. I didn't know how much I needed this until it showed up in my feed and promptly hopped onto my Mental Soundtrack. 💖
This is an old favorite on my mental playlist, as it continues to perfectly describe a state of mind in which I find myself more and more frequently, as I age and contemplate my own personal set of life randomnesses.
Ever since I wrote that line "Sprung from my lair" earlier today, I've had these lyrics stuck in my head:
"Sprung from cages on Highway 9
Chrome wheeled, fuel injected, and steppin' out over the line..."
I grew up in a different suburb of New York City, but I still identified with Springsteen's vibe from those first three amazing albums of his, which I still cherish to this day.
This song turned up in my YouTube stream this evening, and it suddenly occured to me it would make a Dannishly ironic soundtrack choice if someone ever made a movie of Fallout 4 😄