There are a lot of songs I could list while reminiscing our time together over the years. Many involving our 1500 break ups, but this month is all about the love.

So here we go, adding to the Music Challenge, and sharing our love story at the same time …

The beginning…

When I first met Clifford, I questioned his taste in music. He wasn’t that fresh off the boat, but he was still going through this European phase where he was totally loving Techno. If there are two kinds of music I really can’t handle, it’s Country and probably Techno. Maybe it’s not even called Techno anymore, I don’t know, but it’s that wholly unoriginal and insane electronic noise with a repetitiveness that persists to the point of grating on my every last nerve.  It seriously all sounds the same. And because it all sounds the same, I could basically pick any Techno song ever made and insert it here. But because he still has their CDs downstairs, I will give you the Chemical Brothers as a reminder that I probably shouldn’t have dated Clifford to begin with.

84. Chemical Brothers, Brothers Gonna Work It Out (1998)

Our first song…

We would drive out to Tybee Island at like 3 in the morning during our college years. First as friends, then as more than friends. I am the last person to say they overplay songs on the radio. To me, the ones people whine about being overplayed are the popular ones that I love. Why hear them less when you can hear them more? Shawn Mullins’s Lullaby played probably every 15 minutes back then. I can say, quite sincerely, it was overplayed. But it also played every time we were together.  Ipso facto it became our song — temporarily, of course. Now I hear it and I want to scratch out my eyes but with something very dull to make the pain lengthy and excruciating because that’s what I deserve for ever having picked this song as “our song” (though really it was Clifford who picked it – a story for another day).  Anyway, here it is, our first song …

85. Shawn Mullins, Lullaby (1998)

Our actual song? ….. Typical? Yeah. Expected? Of course. True? You betcha. And probably one of my favorite songs of all time. Reminds me of the man I adore every time I hear it.

86. Ozzie Nelson, Dream a Little Dream (1931)

Now, moving forward, please keep in mind, that deep down, for all my bravado, I am a total cheeseball at heart. I’m a tourist. I’m stereotypical. I like tacky, over-the-top and yet completely expected things. So some of these songs are going to be cliché. Probably most of them, and overly so. I’m okay with that because I basically consider myself one big walking talking cliché. Not a lot of nuance to my actions and overall approach to life, but again, I’m ok with that.

The ceremony…

I had promised myself from the moment I was introduced to this song on our good old Commodore 128 that I would walk down the aisle to it. And I did.

87. Pachelbel Canon in D (a wicked long time ago)

We had hired a violinist as our music maker for the wedding. I found out shortly before that the violinist had to cancel and was replaced with a flutist? Clifford didn’t notice. I didn’t really either. In fact, when I brought it up the other day because I’d forgotten the ordeal he said, ”Are you kidding me? We spent actual money on a *expletive* flutist for our wedding? SERIOUSLY???!” The only thing I cared about other than nailing Canon in D for my entrance, was playing this song as we made our exit as a newly married couple. Let’s just say it’s not the same being played on a flute (okay, maybe a violin wouldn’t have been much better, but a flute?) …

88. Natalie Cole, This Will Be (An Everlasting Love) (1975)

Let’s skip to the wedding reception now shall we? I essentially hired my little sister to be our DJ for our big to-do. Her fee was gratis. She had a ridiculous song library, and this was really back before iTunes was anything to note. It was more like the Nabster or Limewire days… you know, when music was free– in an illegal kind of way. Because Cliff and I are cheap and were totally broke, and she really does have good taste in music, and our rehearsal dinner and reception venues had a built-in sound system, girl basically burned a bunch of CDs and let them spin.  She did a pretty killer job and took the few requests I had and added them in. No Country or Techno music was allowed, of course.

Our first dance…

Could there be any other song for that moment? It should be law.

89. Etta James, At Last (1961)

That was the first and only time I have ever danced with my husband. He stepped on my feet every second of the song, but all I really remember is his big doofy grin. It was amazing.

More songs will be mentioned over the next few weeks as I share details of our special event, but  I’ll leave you with these for now. Enjoy them as much as I enjoy them (except the Chemical Brothers, of course).

Back to the BBQ – generally I fly solo but this invite came from a former coworker of Cliff’s. He’s rejected every offer to dine at their house for probably two years. They’d had a third kid for crying out loud since the last time we were there (and that’s at least 9 months and some change in the making). It was time to show up.

However, as much as I like to think I’m a people person, I realize that I’m really not. I would have loved to have stayed in on Saturday night with a glass of wine watching Airplane for the 134^th time, but sometimes you have to step out of your comfort zone and seize the opportunity in front of you – in this instance a BBQ wherein you’re one half of the only couple without kids at a dry house.

Now I’m not an alcoholic by any stretch of the imagination (unless you look at my Tweets and my Friday night Instagram posts), but being 35 and childless while attending a shindig in the burbs surrounded by moms, dads and their young is certainly better enjoyed with a few shots of bourbon under your belt in my book. Or a beer in hand to be sipped while searching for a polite response to all of the inevitably awkward (and somewhat condescending) questions, comments and knowing looks that are thrown your way.

“You don’t have any kids?”

“Don’t you want kids?”

“Everybody wants kids.”

“My kid just did the darndest thing.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

That’s one of my favorites because usually the moment someone shares that wise little gem, their rambunctious sweetheart comes streaking through the kitchen doing this:

And it’s piercing. And you can’t ignore it, because it’s not your kid. You don’t have that built in parent thing where you tune your kids out while carrying on a conversation. Plowing forward as if nothing seems out of the ordinary at all. For the record, it is out of the ordinary. It’s not normal for kids to be running and screaming anywhere other than in a gym or on a playground.  For those who don’t have kids, we can’t disregard it and it’s annoying to no end.  As are your prompts to get me procreating. I don’t need your sympathetic looks, or your advice on how it will change my life. I need your child to shut up so I can hear the one thing you said in the last 60 minutes that was mildly interesting because it wasn’t related to parenting, thus making you an actual person in my eyes instead of a walking talking advertisement for the advantages of abstinence.

(steps off soap box)

This is one topic about which Cliff and I are in complete agreement. But, despite all of this, we said yes. So it was time to put on our game faces and prepare to party like middle-aged suburban parents do.

When attending a social gathering, there’s always a strategy. An action plan, if you will.

1. Park so you can’t get blocked in. You need a quick and easy escape. No waiting for Sally to find her keys and move her car. You need to be swift and able to manage an exit all on your own.
2. In a group of people, you need to smile and speak here and there, be seen so they know you came, but don’t engage in lengthy conversations that could keep you longer than necessary. Make the rounds for about 90 minutes (that includes eating) and then duck out unobserved. You want to be invisible but not too invisible. You want to make an impression but not too much of an impression.
3. No swearing because there are kids around. Cliff and I swear like sailors. This is always the tough one for us. At least I had the good sense to remind Clifford that some parents consider “crap” a bad word, too (I’ve been chastised for that one by a parent before). So thinking before speaking is definitely the order of the day.
4. Have your body language down so you can read each other across a crowded room. You know what I’m talking about. Those wordless signals that say things like “this guy’s a jackass,  so come save me from this conversation” or “this lady smells like cigarettes and altoids” or “abort mission and meet me at the car now.”

With a plan like this, you’ll never go wrong. You’ll make the best of a bad situation every time. Clifford said he felt like we were the couple from Four Christmases. I kind of agree. I never realized till this weekend how much energy we put into not being around people. It’s actually quite substantial. But it’s all to avoid situations just like this (because this is 100% us) —

We did have a nice time. Even though I was sober. We watched the space shuttle orbiting the Earth. We sat outside on a warm, but not hot, summer night civilly discussing politics (which you very rarely do with people these days). Though we did walk away still needing to find that other couple to which we can truly connect. That couple that’s just like us. Who knows if they’re even out there? Maybe I should put out an ad.

Wanted: a childless couple that enjoys wine and whiskey, swearing, Euchre, Ronald Reagan, and television. Surely someone could meet those simple standards? 

Who am I kidding here?