It’s been seven straight days of blogging about my favorite songs for each day of the week. I know how you feel. I’m sick of it, too. I really thought it would be easier. Well, we’ve reached Sunday, the final day, and I have a conundrum. I know, I should see a doctor about getting it removed. But seriously, my preference for a favorite song with Sunday in the title is this one.
I love Morrissey’s plaintive crooning backed with orchestral strings. But I can’t end a week of musical posts with Morrissey’s wailing. I feel the need to go out on a higher note. So, I’ve got one last song for you. It’s got an upbeat sound paired with a very snarky lyrical message about suburban life. Here it is, direct from the hit TV series …
I was thrilled to see the sun rise and shine this morning, just as I am on every cold day. If we can’t have heat, at least give us some sun. I knew immediately what song with Saturday in the title I was going to feature. Not since Monday was I so confident in a song. I am possibly suffering from recency bias as this is a newer song, but I just love the upbeat sound and the easy, uncomplicated lyrics. This song requires 0% thought to 100% enjoy it. It’s just a joy to listen to. So, here’s some musical joy from Vance Joy on a Saturday.
As I write this post, the sun is fading and I am reminded that’s it’s almost Saturday night and reminded of another great song with Saturday in the title.
After having a dreadful time finding favorite songs with Wednesday and Thursday in the titles, I am relieved to be at Friday with a plethora of songs from which to choose. Why are there so many songs about Friday? Well, it’s the start of the weekend and time to party, so people want to sing about it. I may be humming a tune myself as I clip my fingernails later on a Friday night. Now that’s a party!
Back in my younger days, I knew it was the weekend and time to party when Chicago radio station WXRT 93.1FM played Another Drugland Weekend by local band The Hounds at 5PM on Fridays. If not for that song, I’d probably still be in the church choir today. If you missed The Hounds in the 70s, don’t fret. You can catch them later this month playing in a bowling alley just across the border in Madison, Wisconsin. Really!
Who’s up for a short road trip? I know the promotional blurb above suggests ordering a cheeseburger, but when I eat at the Bowl-A-Vard Lanes, I prefer their coq au vin or lobster thermidor to satisfy my palate. Highly recommended!
But this isn’t supposed to be a post about songs with weekend in the title. I need to have Friday on my mind as I write this post, which leads me to …
There are some popular songs about Thursday like this link to a Jess Glyne tune with over 53 million views. But I promised a deeper dive into the music. Just like on Wednesday, I’m heading back to the mid-60s for my Thursday song. As I listen to this tune now, I can imagine some new age, indie artist named Noah in 2022 singing this. Instead, it’s a new age, indie dude named Donovan from almost 6 decades ago.
It’s just a mere wisp of a song, but so pretty with a timeless vibe to it. I think people in the 1500s would have dug it, too.
I’ll end this post on a sad note with an RIP for Christine McVie of Fleetwood Mac fame. She had a voice like an angel and was a songwriting genius.
Despite having easy choices for Monday and Tuesday song faves, I find myself with no obvious choice for a preferred Wednesday tune. I do recall really admiring the political lyrics to this Macklemore creation post-2016 election.
But it’s not a song I would choose to listen to for enjoyment. I think my Wednesday song would have to be this one, if only for how beautiful it sounds.
Oh, those harmonies! Not my favorite S&G song, but it will have to suffice for my Wednesday tune. Back tomorrow with a strong song for Thursday … I hope.
I have a very busy week planned with doctor’s appointments, a trade show, dinner with a German business supplier, an off-site business meeting, my birthday, my wedding anniversary, and a Christmas party. Whew! I’m tired just typing all that. Despite adding a new Mite Be Funny placeholder post, I may not have much time to blog. So, my plan is to reveal my favorite “Days of the Week” song every day this week in short blog posts. I will try and dig a little deeper than obvious choices. For example, my fave Monday song is not the excellent “I Don’t Like Mondays” by the Boomtown Rats, but this gem from The Jam.
Isn’t that a great Jam gem jam? Start thinking of Tuesday songs. I know I am.
I really thought I would find it easy to move away from weekly Mite Be Funny cartoons. But it turns out that it’s not as easy as I thought. It’s not like I have a need to create dumb cartoons about dust mites. However, what I found is that the Sunday Mite Be Funny cartoons served as fixed reference points on my blogging timeline. For example, I may look and see that it’s been 2 days since a Mite Be Funny cartoon, so I know I should generate a new blog post. Without a recent Mite Be Funny cartoon, I found it sooooo easy to just not post since I had no frame of reference to determine if I am blogging frequently or not. I liked to see 2 to 3 blog posts between weekly Mite Be Funny cartoons. Without those Mite Be Funny cartoons, I’m a bit lost in the blogging wilderness. My conclusion is that I might need mites in my life. So, here you go …
Once again, I feel the need to remind readers that the title is Mite Be Funny with two possible meanings:
It could mean that the cartoon might be funny.
It could be a declarative command, “Mite, be funny!”
I realize neither applies to this cartoon this week, but at least I now have a placeholder post for my weekly posting reference. Back to regular posting, thanks to the mites.
I like to think that it was my generation which popularized the Drinksgiving holiday on Thanksgiving Eve. But that was before there was even a name given to it. It wasn’t Drinksgiving to us. It wasn’t even known to us back then as Black Wednesday or Blackout Wednesday, names which seem to have recently given way to Drinksgiving. We didn’t have any fancy-schmancy moniker for the night. It was simply “that night before Thanksgiving when we go out after work and drink ourselves stupid and sick.” And we did, or at least I did in my 20s before 30 arrived with children close behind, and their unbearable weight crushed my partying spirit while robbing us of any potentially expendable partying funds because babies supposedly require expensive diapers and formula. *sigh*
Anyhoo, tonight’s the night to party. I was planning to regale you with stories from my Drinksgivings past, but honestly, I have absolutely no memories after uttering that first word to start the Drinksgiving holiday celebration, “Bartender!” But please, celebrate in a smarter fashion than we Drinksgiving Pilgrims did. If you drink, don’t drive. Just find a spot to lie down and sleep it off.
I had an opportunity today to try and qualify for a product taste test for tomorrow. There were only 2 questions:
Am I willing to eat chicken?
Am I willing to eat pudding?
Although I do try to stick to a vegetarian or pescatarian diet, I will eat chicken (and just about anything else) for money. So, a strong “Yes” from me to both questions and I qualified. Yay! Easy money and a potential breakfast of chicken and pudding ahead for me tomorrow morning.
But then I started to get worried. The taste test is relatively short at only 30 minutes. From my previous taste test experience, that seems like too short of a time to taste test two foods as diverse as chicken and pudding. And then I thought of the possible nightmare scenario. Could the taste test possibly be for chicken-flavored pudding? I mean, who likes pudding enough to eat that?
Winter has arrived way too early in Chicagoland. I should be in the yard blowing leaves. Instead, I am watching a flurry of snow outside my window on an unseasonably cold day. I guess it could be worse. I hear that Buffalo, NY has received 66 inches (167 cm!) of snow so far with maybe another 10 more inches to go. Here’s a posted pic from the Buffalo blizzard which is still going strong.
Our Chicago weather today reminds me more of some of the winter scenes in this music video.
I got sort of comfortable not blogging regularly last week as I dealt with some loss. I’m sure some of you (alright, most of you) got comfortable with not having to read my nonsense multiple times in a week. You may have noticed that for the first week in literally years, I did not publish a Mite Be Funny cartoon.
It was to be Mite Be Funny #300, and although I had an idea for a cartoon, it was not a great one. I guess I could say that about most of my Mite Be Funny cartoons. It has kind of run its course. But as I have explained before, I’m an OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) guy, so there was some comfort in the routine of cranking out a Mite Be Funny cartoon each week with regularity, quality be damned.
But I’ve also really become obsessed with this very zen saying attributed to Confucious.
Our family suffered a loss this past week as my wife’s oldest sister passed away at the beginning of the week. I was not much in the mood for posting funny stuff this week, but I did learn just a bit about losses and gains in life.
Of course, our biggest loss was my sister-in-law. She had been in hospice care for months, so her passing was not unexpected. But I gained some perspective as to how much of an impact she had on people’s lives. She had lived in an assisted-living facility for the past 15 years due to numerous health conditions. I didn’t think she could have much of an influence on other’s lives, but I was so wrong. One of the other residents came to visit her while I was there. The resident told me how she much she will miss my sister-in-law and how she was her best friend. Everyone matters and has value. Sometimes we just need to take a closer look.
We also lost the wonderful fall weather we have enjoyed. It’s cold now. Winter is on the way. And if you are a reader of this blog, you know how I feel about winter. If you don’t follow this blog, here’s a link to a poem about winter.
I hope you all had a fun Halloween. We started celebrating the scary holiday by attending Halloweensteen, a Bruce Springsteen tribute concert performed annually by Chicago native singer/songwriter Michael McDermott. It appears to be a beloved Chicago tradition that I had never heard of before with many repeat attendees. Now I know why. The show exceeded our expectations. There’s a big difference between a bunch of local musicians forming a tribute band to mimic an artist’s music and a professional musician like McDermott assembling other professional musicians to interpret and perform another professional’s songs.
Our seats were outstanding. The last time my wife and I were at the excellent and classy Park West concert hall, we stood and swayed through a show by Brit pop-rocker Dave Edmunds. However, my wife has knee issues worse than me, so I called ahead to check and see if we could be guaranteed seats. Well, not only were we provided seats, but they were just off to the side of the stage on a padded bench in a handicappped section. We had a great view.
There was a bit of a problem as drinking progressed at the 2+ hour show. I’ll explain.
Back in the early 1990s, Chicago native Michael McDermott was being hailed as the next Dylan or Springsteen or mutant hybrid Dylsteen with a harmonica for a mouth. Even author Stephen King was quoting McDermott lyrics in his books while calling him “possibly the greatest undiscovered rock and roll talent of the last 20 years.” Was he? Take a listen to this rocker from 1993’s Gethsemane album.
Pretty strong tune that one can still hear from time-to-time on WXRT in Chicago. I’ll fight anyone who disagrees with my assessment. Alas, initial fame was not kind to him, and he ended up having to rebuild a broken life and career. He now lives in the Chicago suburbs with his family while making new music in his home studio. And he still plays live shows, one of which I will be seeing tonight! But I’m not sure he will perform “West of Eden.” Here’s why.
I recently submitted a serious free verse poem and a hilarious mini story to support a local art exhibit organized by the publisher who published my first short story. However, another one of the paintings caught my eye and imagination. It was this one.
Nobody had chosen this painting to write about. I had an idea, but it was risky for me. I’ll explain why.