I used to listen almost exclusively to 97.1 FM or 97X, billed as “Tampa Bay’s New Rock Alternative” but there’s little new a bout the music they play and nothing fresh. On any given day, they’ll play Nirvana, Everclear, and the same Killer’s songs they’ve been playing for the last several years. I happened to be listening the other day and they were playing “Somebody Told Me.” How long has that song been around? I mean, if you’re going for nostalgia, why not call yourself an oldies station, not the new rock alternative.
Anyway, back to my wife and I. Not too long ago we were both groovin’ on a recent release by Ludacris. You know it – the voice that belts out the refrain sounds like one of David Seville’s chipmonks. One day, I was rappin’ along with the radio – “I love cookie dough, I love cookie dough. I love cookie dough, I love cookie dough” – when my wife corrected me. “It’s ‘I love Pinky Toe,’” she said. We had an ongoing dialog about it for a week of two. I was actually willing to give in since my hearing isn’t what it once was, but one day I went to google and found out that the actual lyric is “How low can you go.” No love. No cookies. And, no pinky toes.
In retrospect, I find it perfectly logical that someone might love cookie dough. I mean “Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough” is one of Ben and Jerry’s most popular flavors. On the other hand, the love of pinky toes seems to indicate something kinky’s at work in my darling wife’s subconscious.
This morning, we had a discussion about a Black Eyed Peas cut, I Gotta Fillin’. My girl insists it’s about dental work. “You know how proud these kids are about their grills,” she explains. “Yeah, I know,” I say, not wanting to antagonize her. Still, I don’t equate going to the dentist, even a grill specialist, with having a good good night. Sorry.
