Thursday, March 15, 2018

Hush hush, Julie. Voices Carry.

I was just in the grocery store, which has recently and inexplicably started playing killer 80's music every time I'm there. Not like Billy Ocean (though "Get Out of My Dreams and Into My Car" is pretty solid and also something my husband and I frequently say to each other). The grocery store is playing bands like The Psychedelic Furs and Tears for Fears. I mean, its great stuff. These are the songs of my people.

So I'm there this morning and again, the music is the great. Upon hearing the end of Til Tuesday's (still amazing) "Voices Carry," I felt a visceral urge to belt out "HE SAID SHUT UP, HE SAID SHUT UP, OH GOD CAN'T YOU KEEP IT DOWN?!" right there among the salad greens and carrots. 
But I realized that a 45-year woman suddenly scream-shouting these lyrics in the produce section, fueled by powerful emotion, might frighten the other shoppers. So I sang nothing. I kept it down because voices carry and it was TERRIBLY SAD. As I looked up from the baby spinach, I saw another GenX mom standing by the organic berries and our eyes met.

We nodded at each other with mutual understanding and began bobbing our heads in time to the last few measures of the song, in the universal manner of those who are not cool and cannot dance. I may have also thrown in a shoulder shimmy. 

It was a beautiful moment of weirdo solidarity and I will always treasure it.


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