Musings of a Loquacious Mind

Last Train to Clarksville...

So I was listening to the radio the other day in the car (oh, for the old days when my car still had a radio...) and the DJ was about to spin "Last Train to Clarksville", which you may well know is the first hit single by the Monkees, released in 1967.

Well, anyway, as the DJ is tossing to the song, he throws in that the song is about a guy going to Vietnam. OK, this fits easily with the lyrics, but that doesn't make it true. I've made up all sorts of stories to explain the narrative of "Hotel California", some of which fit, but that doesn't mean that's what the song is about.

So I did some "websearch" (it's like research, but since it's all using web sources that are not necessarily validated I refuse to call it that), and found out the DJ is right! The song was written by the Boyce and Hart (who also wrote and released "I Wonder What She's Doing Tonight", which I can never not sing when it comes on, and am, in fact, singing right now), and here's a quote about where the name came from by Bobby Hart:

We were just looking for a name that sounded good. There's a little town in Northern Arizona I used to go through in the summer on the way to Oak Creek Canyon called Clarksdale. We were throwing out names, and when we got to Clarksdale, we thought Clarksville sounded even better. We didn't know it at the time, [but] there is an Air Force base near the town of Clarksville, Tennessee - which would have fit the bill fine for the story line. We couldn't be too direct with The Monkees. We couldn't really make a protest song out of it - we kind of snuck it in.

Check the lyrics.

Anyway, I thought it was interesting.

Labels: music

Things I Heard on the Radio

Today's post's theme is:

After my doctor's appointment this morning, I hit up Wawa for a soda before work. Ya'll, I had to. I was supposed to fast the night before which was not a problem; I don't generally eat after midnight, and I am basically never up before 8 am when my appointment was. The thing that made a Diet Coke/Caffeine-Free Diet Coke/Cherry Coke fountain bucket of soda a true necessity was that I had to give blood.

:-(

I hate giving blood. And if I am "giving", why do they have to stab me? They took my blood. That's what it is.

But I digress...

While at Wawa, their soundtrack was piping out Rupert Holmes' "Escape". You know, "Escape"? I don't want to spell it out... OK, fine, "The Pina Colada Song". You do know that's not even the title, right? Oh, but if that was my only beef with that song.

Here's the deal - I hate songs that are beloved without knowing anything about them. I hate songs that people completely overlook what the song is about. It's not about freaking Pina Coladas.

Also, I detest Pina Coladas. It's like drinking a Banana Tropics (as in the sunscreen) smoothie. Yuck.

This song is about a guy that is bored with his... wife? girlfriend? He refers to her as "my lady", as in "I was tired of my lady." So he's cruising the personal ads in the newspaper and sees an ad (I feel the need to point out that he is checking out the ads while lying in bed with her while she's still asleep). OK, go ahead, sing in your head:

If you like Pina Coladas, getting caught in the rain, if you're not into yoga, if you have half a brain, if you like making love at midnight in the dunes of the cape, I'm the lady you've looked for - write to me, and escape

So he apparently thinks to himself: "gross vehicles of alcohol for weenies; public fornication; not to mention adultery... wow, sounds great!" Now, we knew he was stupid when he thought "Yum! Pina Coladas!", so maybe the whole rest of the song really shouldn't be a surprise to me.

So he admits he doesn't even think about his "lady" (who is lying right there in bed), and places an ad (by the way, what is up with all of this "Desperately Seeking Susan" newspaper communiqué?) that is the second chorus, saying that he does like Sunscreen Smoothies, and he doesn't like tofu, and he likes champagne, and he's ready without any further thoughts to jump off the deep-end and leave his lady clueless in the dust, and so meet him at a bar tomorrow.

And so he goes to the bar, waiting for his salacious rendezvous, and in walks his "lady". He's caught! Nooooo... SHE was the one looking to cheat on him that placed the ad. So neither of them are mad at each other for looking to abandon their relationship (which would be hypocritical, I guess, but would make me feel better); no, they just crack up at how silly the whole situation is, and say "Wow, you're into Banana Tropic Milkshakes, too? Crazy. "

Drives me nuts.

Speaking of hypocritical, I do realize that I just recently posted about how the song "Hallelujah" gets stuck in my head. Yes, I know the lyrics from all three major versions. Yes, I know the themes. No, I don't care.

Look, this is my pet peeve. That means it doesn't have to make too much sense. It's like how I think people that carry around Toy Class dogs in purses with little sweaters on are ridiculous, and that chihuahuas even at full sized just look like bug-eyed, twitchy rats, and are ugly as sin. But if I got a miniature chihuahua (which I do not plan to do; if anything it would be a miniature pinscher)(and by if anything I mean I'm not getting a dog and don't want one), I would probably make it little sweaters and carry it around, and I would STILL think other people are ridiculous. It's my prerogative.

And this has been a really long bit about the two quick things on the theme of "What I Heard on the Radio" and I didn't even tell you the other one. On NPR news at nine am the newscaster was reading a list of Academy Award nominees and called Leonardo DiCaprio "Leonard DiCaprio". And it was funny. Oh, never mind.

Labels: music, pet peeve, ruminitions

I heard there was a secret chord...

Everytime I hear this song - or even think of this song - it burrows into my brain. It plays and my thoughts flow around it and it seems to make everything seem so much more important. Or trivial. I prefer the Cale version. I tend to mentally edit out any verses I don't really like. This reminds me of how my mom liked the song Under the Bridge before she really listened to the lyrics.

Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Labels: music