I couldn't have cared less about last weekend's Superbowl from an actual football perspective. And repurposed Wisconsin protest video and Ferris Bueller jokes aside, I wasn't particularly interested in any of the ads. But there was no way I was missing the halftime show. Sure, LMFAO has about as much appeal to me as pigskin or a Go Daddy commercial; I never have, and never will be, a "Party Rocker" who "Shuffles."
But can I still "Vogue"? Heck yeah. And I waited patiently through the whole first half for the chance to watch Madonna strut her 53-year-old glory across television's biggest stage. Madge is the unequivocal soundtrack of my young adulthood. "Holiday" and "Lucky Star" were the anthems of my senior year in high school---a turning point when I left Styx and everything Flashdance, including off-the-shoulder sweatshirts, officially behind. I made the transition to lace, quasi-lingerie, dangly earrings and big black hair ribbons quite adroitly; you could have easily called both my look (and musical taste) the summer after freshman year of college Desperately Seeking Sari. And just hearing the first note of "Like a Prayer" last Sunday brought back forever-pleasant memories of late-night clubbing in downtown Chicago with an ID that finally bore both my real name and birth date.
And I feel as though I've hit the musical-memory lane-motherlode this February. Bruce Springsteen is playing on the Grammy's this weekend. I feel a little guilty that I'm not really interested in hearing anything off his new album. My only hope is that he sings just one verse of "Thunder Road." I so wanted to grow up to be "Mary" of the "dress swaying" from the very first time I heard the song blaring from my older brother's record player. Roy Orbison may have been singing for the lonely. But The Boss? He was singing for 9-year-old me.
I am not sure there is a musical score to my life since I've become a parent, though. I vaguely remember "MMMBop" in the background with Son #1----VH1 was my best friend during 3 AM power-nursing sessions. And I'm pretty sure it was Avril Lavigne who dominated the airwaves driving back and forth to my newborn daughter's non-stop pediatrician appointments in the summer of 2002. But on the whole, whether I've been too busy, too distracted or too disinterested, I couldn't tell you much about popular music from the past fourteen years.
But it occurred to me that there's nothing keeping from me from a creating an original "parenthood" playlist. I could easily come up with an audio scrapbook that links favorite tunes from my glory days with important stages from my Mom-life. The first couple tracks could be labor and delivery oriented---think Salt-n-Pepa's "Push It", the Ramone's "I Wanna Be Sedated" or Diana Ross' "I'm Coming Out." These would be followed up by tunes inspired from my kids' first years, possibly the Talking Heads' "Stay Up Late", Tom Petty's "Crawling Back to You" or NKOTB "Step by Step." Elementary school could be captured with, to state the obvious, The Jackson Five's "ABC." Or, if you'd seen me the day my youngest started kindergarten, Melissa Manchester's "Don't Cry Out Loud."
I could go on forever"and that's not necessarily a good thing. But if you have any suggestions to accompany the tumultuous tween and teen years, just let me know. Some days I feel like Green Day's "Good Riddance" sums it up perfectly.
And other days I'm all "Cat's in the Cradle." Because I'm not always ready for them to be "Growin' Up" (Springsteen, Greetings From Asbury Park, 1973).
