Thank you, Old Fart. Thank you Judy.

Last night I had the opportunity to grace the stage of one of the highest class establishments in Chicagoland.  In an effort to protect its anonymity, I'll call it "Feet Smeller's."  Also dubbed "The Cougar's Den" and "Blowjob Palace," Feet Smeller's boasts the allure of a frat party and the charm of a pig's slop trough.  Probably responsible for 85% of drunk driving accidents in the greater Wheeling area, Feet Smeller's has never let me down when I really need to see vomit splashed tenderly upon at least two of the 4 ladies' johns.  But enough about the fabulous venue.  Let's get to the patrons.  

We finished our first set without much issue.  Business has been slow since the economic downturn, and the cougars have moved on to greener plains.  Freakonomically speaking, it makes me wonder if people are so strapped for cash that in addition to drinking a few less lattes a week, middle aged women are cutting down on seeking extramarital relations.  Body glitter is a major expense.  Anyway, I chatted with the band, ate some dinner, kept to myself for the most part.  Then the second set.  I should really learn not to leave my seat.  But a girl's gotta get to the bathroom.  As I briskly walked to the back room, I heard someone grunting, "Hey.  Hey.  Miss.  Hey."

I usually ignore people.  I hate to admit it, but if the best you can come up with is, "Hey," I'll probably pretend I have a hearing problem.  But the voice persisted, and a female voice joined in.

"Miss?  Hello?"  So I turned my head.  A nice-enough looking elderly couple sat in the back corner, and they waved me over.  Upon my approach, they both started talking.  The gentleman started.

"We've seen you before," the lady said.

"Oh, really?"  Always be nice to returning patrons.  "Thanks for coming to see us.  Where did you see us before?

The gentleman replied, "Oh, it was Tommy Pescorelli."

Was that any kind of answer?  "Oh, where was that?"

"It was Athens, Georgia," he confidently answered.  

Ok, I really had to pee, and this conversation was going to have to end soon.  "Oh, that wasn't me.  I've never been to Georg---"

"It was twenty years ago," the lady interjected.  "Tommy's son."  I shook my head and began to turn to leave, trying not to make the poor drunk lady feel badly for calling me old.  "No!  It was La Cave!"  

"Oh," I gave in. "I have played there.  Tommy was the owner?"

"No," the man argued, "he's just a friend.  You played there.  You wore a white dress.  Or a yellow dress."  He seemed very sure of himself, but I had finally found my exit.

"Well, I always wear black," and just as this useless conversation was about to come to a neutral end, it took the turn I should have taken seconds earlier.

"Because of your weight?"  

At that moment, I turned on my heel and resumed my brisk walk to the vomitorium.  Seriously?  What did I do to deserve that question?  When we started the third set, I couldn't help but feel some resentment toward the entire crowd.  The Feet Smeller's diners are some of the lamest on earth, and this is far from an isolated incident.  For the first song, I really wanted to make a snarky dedication to the couple in the back, but they were already gone.  And that's what really eats me.  I didn't get the last word.  Through the rest of the evening, I dreamed up great comebacks for that comment.  Here are some ideas:

1. "Well, your fatass wife is wearing white, and she's cool.  I mean, you can hardly detect the Depends through her elastic track suit pants."  

2.  "I would tell you to go fuck yourself, but that would be impossible since the E.D. probably got the better of you around age 80."  

3.  Spill a drink in his lap.  It wouldn't matter if it was hot or cold, because the Depends would protect him from any real harm.  

4.  "You'll have to excuse me, the smell of Ben Gay is making my nauseous, and you better catch that bus back to the home so you don't miss Matlock."

5.  "Thank you for keeping my ego in check"

 Rather than wallow, I grabbed a bottle of Riesling on the way home, and popped in Judy Garland Live at the Palladium.  This was one of the first (if not the very first) times Liza sang with her mom on stage.  Little Liza sang, fought off Judy's attempts to grab her mic, stroked her mother's hair, and ruled the entire show.  Those two were masterful at portraying modesty and graciousness.  I wish I could pretend like them.  

About halfway through this post-hepatitis croakfest, the boys in the audience start yelling, "I love you!"  Judy returned the affection happily.  

Then they made the request.  The request she hated.  

Who wouldn't be sick of Dorothy?  She had made so much music in her short life, but all they wanted was to hear "Rainbow."  This shell of Judy had also been utterly upstaged by her teenage daughter.  She sweetly protested.   When more requests flew at her, she sharply assured them it was on its way, knowing the hit was last on the set list.  If you ever have the chance to watch this concert, don't listen to the words she's saying, just listen to her tone and watch her body language.  Then try to imagine what she's really saying inside.  It's a good thing she didn't bring a gun to that performance.  

After the duets, it was time.  Judy looked for her favorite audience member.  "Liza?  Liza, will you come out here?  Just sit here in front."  Liza dutifully sits cross-legged in front of her mother and adores her.  I think Judy sang about 2 1/2 words before beckoning the crowd to sing along.  She tells Liza to sing, too, but Liza was smarter.  She silently stared at her mama, beaming, holding her hand.  And the audience did all the work.  It was beautiful.  

Happy Birthday Peppy!

This evening, while making plans to write and record our album, Christine and I made a pact:  Within a year, we will make tracks for a writing location (maybe Montana--never been there)  where we will hole up for a week, and write the companion album to my book.  To make it official, I halted our conversation to announce the date.  March 27th.  Saying it out loud reminded me that today's auspicious date is exactly 7 years since I bought my first new car, Peppy Le Bleu.  

Peppy is a 2002 4-door standard Toyota Echo in a stunning shade of Indigo (that's dark blue, y'all).  I had driven Crusher Muddoggie, my faithful '87 convertible VW Cabriolet for a decade, and his time was drawing near.  As a new elementary teacher, fresh out of the abject poverty of music studenthood, I just didn't know what to do with my huge paychecks.  I used one for rent and food, then saved the next, used one, saved, and so on.  I had quite the down payment brewing.  It was finally time.  I made the drive to Albuquerque, and at mile marker 110, smoke started billowing from under Crusher's hood.  I stopped, turned the car off, and remembered an article in Seventeen telling me that just because there's a funny sound or some smoke, I shouldn't be afraid to drive a wounded car a few more miles to a safe place.  I started the car again, smoke again, then a loud bang, and that was all she wrote.  A friendly passer-by will a cellular phone device let me call a tow truck and my mom.  We rendez-vous'd at a Denny's in Socorro, and mom looked at me sternly.  Then she immediately cracked up laughing.  Of course my trade in would totally die on me 100 miles from my finish line.  Of course.  That was the Del Campo Way.  On his way home to buy a new car, Christopher was found in Van Horn trying to force oil into the smoking Millenium Falcon.  Sorry for outing you, brother.  Anyway, we towed my useless hunk of steel to Albuquerque, and found a guy who was over the moon that he could have his dream car for 500 bucks.  He wore a lot of tie dye, and was totally geeked out to rebuild the Cabriolet engine, a task that was completely necessary.  

Then we found Peppy.  

Then I had my first accident about a month later.  The front bumper fell clean off.  No one was hurt.  But I had to get to a gig, and none of my bandmates were answering their cellular phone devices that I tried to reach from a telephone booth.  This is one reason why I didn't get a cell phone, for, like, forever.  I mean, what was the point?  Anyway, finally, one of my mateys called back and gave me a ride to the gig.  We passed the hat and my band let me keep all the money to get my car fixed.  I miss those mateys.  

Peppy took myself and Christine on the road from The Land of Enchantment to Chicago.  Peppy held everything I needed for my first year in the Windy.  On the way, we almost passed through Clarksville to pay homage to the Monkees, but we were too anxious to get to our destination to make a detour.  In 2003, gas was super cheap, and Peppy got awesome mileage to boot.  

Through rain, wind, sleet, snow, wind, ice, wind, and potholes, Peppy has gotten me everywhere I need to be.  I sometimes feel badly for the ding on the driver's side door (when I got a little too close to the gas pump in Las Cruces), the missing panel on the passenger side (which popped off upon meeting with an errant Cook County street divider), and the fact that Peppy has twice been the victim of radio theft (simply the fault of my wicked tuneage).  However, we are a team.  I love my car every day, and look forward to another happy seven years.

Carry-on, My Wayward Sister

Continuing with my New Year's Resolution, I'm trying to do something that makes me proud of myself on a daily basis.  I've done things like learning some HTML, eating grown-up cereal, and using an eyelash curler.  I'm not the bungee-jumping type, ok?  In fact, I'm such a wuss, that this resolution is evolving into my simple aspiration to be a normal person.  Today is no different.  

Marky and I are going to visit my brother and sister-in-law in Houston tomorrow.  It's a recreational trip.  Normal people do that all the time.  But no matter how smooth my life was going before a trip, things start to fall apart when I travel.  It starts about three days before the trip.  I can't sleep, I start gnawing on my fingernails, and I fantasize about security locking me away for trying to get through the everything detector with a bottle of foundation.  I've been flying since I was very little, and I don't know where this all started, but I can't stop my travel neurosis.  Although I hate flying, and do everything in my power to lose consciousness as soon as I buckle my seatbelt, this is not a condition limited to air travel.  It happens with road trips, too.  What if there's no food at our destination and I pass out?  What if I need a jacket and all I brought was open-toed shoes and sundresses?  I can't focus on the fun vacation I'm about to have, because I'm wracked with paranoia.  I'm not paralyzed by the paranoia, but I know it gets annoying to the people around me.  Marky has adapted by cleaning the house, packing two days in advance, and letting us leave extra early.  It's best for him to acknowledge my panic, and help me through it.  

I've packed, shopped, cleaned, taken the knitting needles out of my bag, unhooked my Swiss Army knife, and feel ready.  I go to online check-in.  This is usually a nonessential step, because when I get to the airline queue, I'm so worried I've already broken a law just by getting in line, I need my hand held at the counter, and I check EVERYTHING so they don't take my lip gloss away.  Marky, check.  Breezy, check.  How many bags are we checking?  One for me, one for...  Wait.  Does that screen say they are going to charge me for my checked bag?  You don't even get ONE checked bag as a gimme?  Now, I'm in a quandry.  I'm paranoid, but I'm nothing if not thrifty.  Let me get this straight: the airlines not only charge you $4 for 20 oz. of water after forcing you to empty your $0.89 White Hen bottle, but now they insist that you roll the dice and get your perfume confiscated or else pay $15 to check your bags?  All right.  Here's my proud moment of the day:  I'm getting the quart-sized Ziplock bag.  I'm putting my shit in it, and they are going to let me through with liquid carry-on items!  Not only will I get through with my conditioner and eye drops.  I will brazenly include my empty camouflage SIGG bottle, and once that is through security, I will even more brazenly fill it with water from a fountain, and laugh in the face of the O'Hare McDonald's that for so long had a stranglehold on my liquid intake to wash down my OTC consciousness-ending medication!  Ha-HAA!  Take that, FAA conspiracy!

Freek Seven 3/3 - 3/10

I love How it's Made and Cash Cab during the morning workouts. Seriously, it's a reason to get up early. I can't do cardio to music. I'm not an iPod jogger--I need trivial repetitive TV stuff, like fashion and cooking shows. The only reason I don't have a crush on the host of How It's Made is because you never see him during the show. Ben Bailey, however, I adore. He's funny and weird, and if I ever found myself on his show, I would hope I had at least 40 blocks to go.

3/3 - Workout: 60 min walking 3.7 mph, 5.0 incline Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, yogurt, cereal, coffee Lunch: Campbell's Select Harvest Light Vegetable and Pasta, salad, cheese stick Snack: Tangerine, cheese stick, 7-11 white cheddar popcorn Dinner: Subway 6 inch Ham and Turkey on Honey Oat, sunchips, diet coke, fiber plus bar

3/4 - Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, cereal, yogurt Workout #1: cable chest press, high pulley row, box jump, prone twists, knee raise, alternating cable shoulder rest in split squat stance Lunch: ER Chicken Enchilada, salad, shredded cheese, Fiber plus bar, Snack: Pear, cheese, 1/2 Bubu Lubu and a handful of gummy life savers. What a waste of calories, but DELICIOUS!! Workout #2: 35 min running 5.8 mph 0.5 incline, 20 min walking 3.5 mph, 6.0 incline Dinner: ER pepperoni pizza, salad, beet, Fiber Plus bar Snack: Smart Pop popcorn, glass of red wine

3/5 - Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, cereal, yogurt Lunch: Arby's Regular Combo with curly fries and Diet DP (The fact that they offer Diet DP makes it okay to have curly fries). Snack: Pickles and Swiss cheese Workout: 30 min running 6.2 mph, 1.0 incline, 30 min walking 3.5 mph, 6.0 incline, bike ride to and from the gym (yay, sun!) Dinner: ER Sesame Chicken, zucchini, salad, 100 calorie bar Snack: Smart pop and red wine.

3/6 VACATION - Breakfast: McGriddle, hashbrowns, coffee Lunch: Freebird's 1/2 bird w/steak, rice, cheese, hot sauce, refried beans Dinner: Foie Gras on crostini, pork chop with peaches, mashed potatoes, red wine.

3/7 VACATION - Breakfast: banana, cereal Workout: 1 hour pilates Lunch: Cuban tacos with beans and rice, Starby's skinny vanilla latte Aperitif: Pastisse (YUM!) Dinner: obscene amount of crostini, white bean spread, breadsticks, salmon with dijon and brown sugar, salad, potatoes au gratin, fruit shortcake, and enough red wine to sink a small boat.

3/8 VACATION - Breakfast: egg and chorizo tacos, beans, hash browns, coffee Snack: yogurt and chocolate covered pretzels Dinner: Swiss cheese burger and fries.

3/9 - Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, cereal, yogurt Snack: Kashi wheat crackers Lunch: Subway Spicy Italian on Honey Oat Snack: slice Swiss Cheese, 100 calorie bar Workout: 15 min walking/15 min running Dinner: ER Turkey Meatloaf, brussels sprouts, salad, fiber plus bar.

3/10 - Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, cereal, yogurt Snack: 2 Fiber One Toaster Pastries Lunch: Campbell's Healthy Request Chicken and Rice soup, salad, cheese stick Snack: Pear, cheese stick Dinner: ER Pepperoni Pizza, salad, yogurt.

Freek Six 2/24 - 3/2

So, the 10-day Bran Buds challenge is well under way. I'm finding that it's all about building blocks. First, I got a hold of my calorie intake/burnoff. Then the water, next the fiber, sodium, and for some reason, the toughest obstacle is the fat grams. Later on down the road, I'm sure cholesterol will be my challenge.

Disclaimer: For the faint of heart, skip right to the food diary. For those with a sense of humor, please read on.

I was mildly concerned about really upping the fiber intake. And the first few days weren't exactly easy. In fact, I thought I might be doing something wrong, at first. The cereal tastes fine--that's not the issue. But you had better be close to the facilities all day. This isn't something you want to do while on a camping trip. There is not pain, just urgency. After a week, though, things are running smoothly. And I never feel bloated at all. Even after eating a little too much (which I tend to do), my tummy doesn't feel uncomfortable. And it's not long before that lunch just moves on. After every two-week weigh-in last year, I would go have a decadent meal, and regret it for a couple days. It would slow me down physically and mentally. I feel like I have tapped into the secret formula for a safe and effective human Drano. That wasn't so bad, was it? For more info on the state of my poo, feel free to email or call me. I won't subject the world to it.

2/24 Breakfast: 1/2 Grapefruit, cereal, yogurt Workout: incline bench press, ab machine, slanted pull-ups, narrow grip pulldowns, push ups on bench, oblique twist, 45 min walking 3.5 mph, 5.0 incline Lunch: Spanish olives with Manchego cheese, Moroccan Tajine with root vegetables, raisins, almond couscous, and yogurt, coffee, vanilla milkshake (If you haven't yet been to Blind Faith Cafe in Evanston, get going) Workout #2: 40 min walking 3.7 mph, 20 min running 6.0 mph, 0.5 incline Snack: Fiber Plus bar Dinner: ER soybean burger with green chile, grilled onions, muenster cheese, sweet potato fries, salad, glass red wine.

2/25 Workout: 60 min walking 3.5 mph 8.0 incline Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, cereal, yogurt Snack: 8 cherry cordials. You heard me. I felt like shit for eating those. Physically and mentally. I don't know what made me do it. Lunch: leftovers of the Moroccan Tajine, salad Snack: Pear, cheese stick Dinner: Campbell's Select Harvest Mexican style Chicken Tortilla soup, salad.

2/26 Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, yogurt, cereal Workout: Barbell curl, upright row, good mornings, seated row, tricep pushdowns, deltoid lateral raises(or "shredding my delts"), 60 min walking 3.5 mph, 5.0 incline Snack: Fiber Plus bar, coffee Lunch: Chili's 1/2 turkey sandwich, fries, side salad, chips and salsa, diet Coke Dinner: ER Cheese Ravioli, salad, 1o0 calorie bar.

2/27 WEIGH-IN- 1%!! Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, yogurt, cereal with strawberries Lunch: Wow Bao 3 bao, 1/2 pad thai salad, ginger ale Snack: Chocolate Strawberry cupcake, small bag Wheat thins, 2 oz cheddar cheese Dinner: Spinach Artichoke Dip, Caterpillar Maki, 2 glassses Cabernet, 100 calorie bar.

2/28 Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, yogurt, cereal with strawberries Lunch: Progresso Light Pot Roast Soup, salad, cheese stick, macadamia white chocolate cookie Snack: Pear, cheese stick Workout: 60 min walking 3.7 mph, 5.5 incline Dinner: ER Soy protein burger with green chile, swiss cheese, pickles, sweet potato fries, salad, Fiber Plus bar, Veggie Stix.

3/1 Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, yogurt, cereal, coffee Lunch: Progresso Light Santa Fe Style Chicken soup, salad, cheese stick Snack: Pear, cheese Stick, and a package of Zingers. Have you ever considered the nutritional value of Zingers? What was I thinking? Dinner: BBQ Chicken Salad, popcorn, glass of cognac Snack: movie Popcorn and soda.

3/2 Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, yogurt, cereal, coffee Lunch: Progresso Mexican tortilla soup, salad, cheese stick Snack: tangerine, cheese stick, and some fucking Zingers. I am sabotaging myself. Workout: 10 min walking 3.5 mph, 30 min running 6.0 mph 1.0 incline, 20 min elliptical Dinner: ER Poblano Chicken, salad, zucchini, 100 calorie bar.

Top 25 Albums of All Time

I thought I'd try to elevate the current Facebook meme and not only give my top 25 albums, but a little background. Enjoy.

25. Now - Maxwell

Three words: This Woman's Work. During a particularly difficult time in my life (and the life of a good friend), my voice teacher introduced me to this song. I didn't know who it was for--me or my friend. Either way, it was perfect.

The rest of the album followed. The story of a man who gives a shit about his woman for the long haul, but can get down and groove with her for a night. There are few sexier guitar riffs than the animalistic strums in Temporary Night. Maxwell, don't be sorry that you've been thinking nasty thoughts about me. It's only natural. I'm very critical of ballads, especially with a proliferation of falsetto. For Lovers Only and Silently pass the cheese test.

24. Revisited - Dr. Hook and The Medicine Show

Everybody knows the catchy Cover of the Rolling Stone. Some know the sappy Sylvia's Mother. But I think the humor and the emotion both run deeper than those two songs over the course of this album. Queen of the Silver Dollar scares the hell out of me. To rule a smoky kingdom, where my scepter is a wine glass and a barstool is my throne? It reminds me not to get too excited about killing at karaoke. The "clap" in Penicillin Penny always makes me laugh, and I can't help singing along with Acapulco Goldie. I think there are no more friendly lyrics than those of Freakin' At The Freaker's Ball, and none more candid and openhearted than Get My Rocks Off.

23. Pet Your Friends - Dishwalla

This was my go-to play-through during my sophomore year of college. It wasn't Counting Blue Cars that got my attention. In fact, I usually skip that poor overplayed bastard of a song. I heard Charlie Brown's Parents once on the radio (and never again--kinda think it was a mistake) and went straight to Hastings to pick it up. Little did I know this album would be brimming with sensitive wussy rock. In a good way. I won't pretend to know the lead singer's name. He's got a really nice voice. My M.O. is often falling for a band because the lead is cute. He's alright, but the voice and the lyrics are beautiful. I like a band who is brave enough to write Pretty Babies, a song condemning the sexualization of young children by the media, or Miss Emma Peel, an ode to the gal on the Avengers, a "chick full of tint and technicolor."

22. Achtung Baby - U2

I appropriated this cassette from my high school boyfriend, after years of disparaging the name of U2. The opening of Ultraviolet just kills me. It's so sad. Not the words, but the simple guitar intro. "You left my heart empty as a vacant lot"? How fucking sad is that? I wasn't aware enough for Joshua Tree, groovy enough for Rattle and Hum, nor hip enough for Zooropa. Achtung Baby was just good timing. With all of U2's costume changes over the years, this was the right fit for me. I was finally ready. That falsetto in So Cruel hooked me in. This album is the perfect mixture of the heartfelt Irish balladeer, and thumping Eurorock. If I hear one song, I have to listen to the whole album. It's like turning on A&E when Dirty Dancing is playing. I'll stick it out to the end for old time's sake.

21. Want One/Want Two - Rufus Wainwright

I know. It's a little early to break the rules. But if you've heard these albums, can you really break up Go or Go Ahead and The Art Teacher? Just because Rufus didn't presume to sell his version of Use Your Illusion as a set, doesn't mean they aren't a double album. These sets of songs defined a new genre: Popera. Cheesy, but this is really popera done right. It's not Il Divo. It's a new wave of beautifully orchestrated, well thought-out jazz, classical, and pop music. Yes, it's dreary at times, but gems like Little Sister are uplifting and humorous.

Want One proves a little more obviously autobiographical, while Want Two is more of an artistic look at Wainwright's life. This Love Affair could be anyone. Several anyones. Is that a picardy third at the end? Can I get an amen from my music peeps? And who knows which songs were written when. What I know is that each collection goes well together, but you could really toss them all up and I wouldn't know the diff. And that's okay, here.

20. Lie to Me - Johnny Lang

The closest I ever came to being a cougar was at age 21. Along comes this 16-year-old child, who was already a veteran in the blues scene. This was the same year Hanson came out with MmmBop, and Britney and Christina were doing their things. It was certainly a year filled with musical jailbait. Jonny, I knew, would have some longevity, whether he became a superstar or not. He played well, but that gritty, gutteral growl was just amazing. Thank goodness he's got a wailing gospel lady backing him up, so I have someone to safely sing along with. The title track is a perfect blues song. It's just asking for pain. "Lie to me and tell me everything is alright. Lie to me and tell me that you'll stay here tonight." Matchbox and Rack 'Em Up had to make blues giants scratch their heads about this white kid intruding on their turf, but they obviously accepted that undeniable talent. "Ain't no shame in bein' beat by a master."

My only wish was that Missing Your Love had gotten more airtime. I take that back. I'm glad I know that song so well, and that it's relatively hidden from the general public. Follow up albums Wander This World and Long Time Coming both had their great moments, but none as earth shattering as the debut. And even though I'm glad that Jonny eventually found his way in religion and sobriety, I miss that tightrope he walked when he was so young.

19. The Bends - Radiohead

I know it's a good album when I don't know the titles of any of the songs. If you ask me about Planet Telex, I'm lost. If you look at The Bends as a whole, you'll hear basic dynamics lacking in 95% of popular music. Thom Yorke got my attention my junior year of high school with Creep. I couldn't understand the last word of "I'm a creep, I'm a [woodoo]," and the screen was all blurry and out of proportion on MTV. When I found out that Yorke wasn't a beautiful Hollywood leading man (hence the mysterious video style), it made me love his yearning voice all the more. There is some real pain there. And we've all been there before. But back to The Bends. I wished we could be happy. I wanted so much for it to be another decade that I braided this album with The Mamas and The Papas and The Partridge Family into a mix tape. Cherish should really follow the title track, and Nice Dream flows seamlessly into I Call Your Name. Put those three in your iPod and mix them up. It works.

18. 1984 - Van Halen

Is it Eddie's gentle, yet perfect harmonic intro to Top Jimmy? Or Alex's double bass drum in Hot For Teacher? Let's not forget the importance of David Lee Roth's role as kung-fu MTV video god. Back in the good old days of performance videos, Van Halen ruled. Colorful, rockin', but not too hard for an 8-year old to get behind, VH was a staple in the cassette deck. Can anyone deny the title track as one of the best openers of all time? Anyone? Then we go right to Jump, which is immortal. Undeniable. You cannot listen to that without singing along a little, or tapping some air fretboard. So, we've got these iconic songs, but the whole album (if you're not completely familiar) is chock full of humor (Drop Dead Legs), musicality (I'll Wait), and virtuosic performances (Girl Gone Bad). These four rockers were worth more than the sum of their parts, but each part was pretty fucking cool. And they certainly made a go of it later, with separate projects. Granted, there were albums before, but nothing eclipsed this pinnacle of their careers.

17. Footloose and Fancy Free - Rod Stewart

With an opener like Hot Legs, I have to say, this is one of those albums that should be locked away until the sun comes out and you have access to a souped-up convertible. To think that some crazy bitch is wearing Rod down to the point that he needs a shot of Vitamin E to keep up is just hilarious. If you want your kid to be the next Mozart, Born Loose can teach little guys about accelerando. If loving Rod's versions of Luther Ingram and Supremes songs is wrong, I don't wanna be right. As a Kindergardener listening to this 8 track in my mom's green Mazda, I learned about growling, screeching, sighing, and all the drama and vocal dynamics I would need to hone my craft. I definitely wanted to be a man singer rather than a gal singer. I still pretend to be Rod now and again.

16. Seven and the Ragged Tiger - Duran Duran

This was my first cassette. I got it for Easter '84, and I was a little scared of it. My brother claimed it for his own. I, like everyone else, knew The Reflex, but the videos seemed so serious, I wasn't sure if I would get it. Excuse me, Tiger Tiger had no words? Where was Hungry Like the Wolf? Rio? No thank you. I did get pulled in by Arena later, and I can't sing along with any of the original recordings without inserting Simon's adornments in the live versions. Back on track, though, I listened to this album sort of peripherally, through my brother, and it was always a part of me. In high school, I scored cassette copies of Seven and Arena, and hold tight onto daddy's bracelets! I reeducated myself with this collection of turned up collar, high hair, guylined, pre-emo lyrics and melodies. I've never actually read the lyrics to The Seventh Stranger. I think it goes, "For whom as in the wake-up such a lonely clown." Are there any real instruments involved? I don't care. I love those Brits.

15. Waiting for My Rocket to Come - Jason Mraz

What a debut album! I'll be honest. This album reminds me of a summer harmonizing with my friend, Don. This album tastes like sticky rice with coconut to me. I also love the color of the CD itself, kind of a chicken flavor Ramen noodle shade of goldenrod. By now, everyone who cares, knows that Mraz has a musical theater background, and that's why, although the instrumentation can get dense, he can lean so heavily on his vocals. I've seen him live, and he's great. Another thing I'll be honest about. His live albums teeter on the self-important verge of becoming another DMB. Not interested. Still, this album is pure, honest, and beautiful. Unashamed to talk about sex, pot, his love for his dog, and his masterful flow, Mraz hit the target with this wonderfully varied collection of tunes.

There are a lot of words here. You have to work to sing along with him, but Rocket is a great canvas on which to paint some harmonies. The upbeat number are great, but the ballads are my favorites. I want a guy to write the brown eyed lyrical counterpart to "sequined seafoam eyes" for me. It's been awhile since a pop singer wrote a truly tortured ballad like Absolutely Zero.

14. Spirits Having Flown - Bee Gees

Tragedy is a killer opener. Insistant, unpredictable, electric guitar, dark strings, synthesizer. Sidenote: A nice companion album, perfectly enough, is Shadow Dancing by little brother Andy Gibb. That title track is another bomb of a track one. Let's follow up that breathless power pop with Too Much Heaven. Oh my, I'm four. I know it's time for bed, but I want to play that LP that looks like rainbow sherbet on the back. Just one song. The one about "it's as high as a mountain." Please mom, just that one. Thank goodness that one puts me to sleep, because I wouldn't be able to handle the wocka chicka wocka chicka coming next. It's polyester disco at it's best. These guys really made a huge jump from their I Started a Joke and To Love Somebody days. If you put your ear to the records, the instrumentation is the same, it's just that Spirits was so rich and well-produced. And Barry's hair never looked better. On his head or his chest.

13. Make It Big - Wham!

Did you know that Wham! had a third member? It was me. I bought their clothes, did my hair big, and learned all the words to all the songs, just in case Andrew Ridgeley and George Michael had a blowout in my neighborhood and stopped at my house for help, and decided to stage an impromptu audition. I was ready.

Can we talk about Heartbeat for a moment? This is a great song. It's got this 50's doo-wop beat, and a really nice vocal line. George really showed what he had, here. "Standing on the line between desire and duty." What duty? Who cares? And why didn't the Jackson 5 think of If You Were There? Thank you, Wham! for providing me my first education in baby mama drama with Everything She Wants. Only owners of Make it Big knew the intro to Careless Whisper wasn't a soaring sax line, it was a classical guitar. I'd really love to rewrite the lyrics and wipe the general population's memory clean of that song, so that this gem can be regarded as a vocal masterpiece. I'm still ready for my audition, guys.

12. An Innocent Man - Billy Joel

The theme song to a Rodney Dangerfield movie opens Billy Joel's departure album. Easy Money taught me about James Brown before I'd ever heard I Feel Good. Screeches, growls, horns, and great lyrics. "Talk me into losin' just so long as I can win." Then we ease into Billy crooning the title track with no more than a bass and an intermittent snap. Then, dynamics. Big piano, drums, and that high note from Billy. Next, the whole reason you bought the album: A street quintet doo-wopping The Longest Time. Listen to Beethoven's Pathetique Sonata and you'll hear This Night. Tell Her About It is why I know I could never be a good lyricist. What a great idea. Mentor/friend telling you how to not screw up a relationship. Jumping ahead, Christie Lee is another great story song about a girl and a sax player, with cute innuendo and Jerry Lee Lewis style ivory banging. The harmonica adorned Leave a Tender Moment Alone seems to happen in all of Billy Joel's albums. He's basically telling his woman he's eventually gonna screw it up, it's just a matter of time. Keep screwing up, Billy. It's great material.

11. For Lovers, Dreamers, and Me - Alice Smith

The most recent of my picks, Alice is an instant classic. I've already written a blog about her, so I might keep this one short. If you don't bend your knees and bounce a little when you hear Woodstock, you might be dead. You should also feel a little like you're watching Shaft when you hear Gary Song. Chicago is my desert in Desert Song--even when I doubt my role here, I can listen to this song and know that I'm doing the right thing. And let Secrets be a lesson to gossips. Including myself.

Lots of music here. LOTS of singing. You will find something you like. Alice is not lifestyle music (that's funny I should mention that with Coldplay looming around the corner), but I really think that just about anyone could love her.

10. Parachutes - Coldplay

Parachutes is another album eternally paired with another, David Gray's White Ladder. I don't interweave them, but the conclusion of either album makes me long for the commencement of its sibling.

The marketing for this album was persistant and successful. I'm not saying the album didn't merit the attention it garnered, but I will admit that the first time I heard of Coldplay was on a Sunday morning news show. Yes, soon Yellow was played into the ground, but did you see the video? The sun rose during the course of a one-shot shoot. They timed the sun rising, for crying out loud. Trouble is the same story. Overplayed, but just beautiful. Coldplay pulled together a relatively quiet, clean, simple album, and no matter how much I listen, I never tire of it. The ethereal voice and thin accompaniment are both perfect. Hidden gems: Sparks is a beautiful illustration of a love-soaked daze. Ironically, High Speed moves along like a floppy leaf falling from a century old maple tree. Did the title track start out as a bridge for a song that got cut? I'd like to ask Chris Martin why exactly he thought a 46-second song was necessary. It's nice, though. When it's done right, a great album doesn't need to hide behind noise, velocity or conventional duration.

9. The Dance - Fleetwood Mac

Lindsay Buckingham is a genius control freak genius! Let me back up. I got turned on to this concert the summer of '97. My brother was permanently moving out of our family house, and we tried to spend some time together knowing it would be the official end of childhood. That summer, VH-1 and MTV were shamelessly promoting dueling concerts that would run simultaneously. This was 100 years ago before TiVo, okay? Luckily, we didn't really give a toss about KISS reuniting.

To tell the truth, we didn't have much prior knowledge of Fleetwood Mac, but snippets of The Chain kept reverberating through the commercial breaks, enticing us with it's dark thumping intro. We sat down for this concert and were completely mesmerized, song after song. We were just two people sitting in a living room, not a stadium of thousands, but the frenetic fingerpicking solo in Big Love propelled both of us into a standing ovation. Landslide was one of my money songs in high school, and I approved of the new moments Stevie Nicks slipped in. The look Lindsay and Stevie shared during the thunderous applause afterward gave me goosebumps. Tusk, the USC Marching Band, closing with Don't Stop. It was glorious.

We videotaped the concert, and agreed to mail it back and forth to each other so no one was the official owner. It took many months for the show to come out on CD, that Chris decided to jump through some serious hoops to get us tickets for the show in Houston a couple months later. We had to get our fix.

8. Hair - Original Broadway Cast Recording

Before La Vie Boheme's "bisexuals, trisexuals, homosapiens carcinogens, hallucinogens," there was Hair's "long straight curly fuzzy snaggy shaggy ratty matty."

If only I had known that this album would score me an A on the Shakespeare soliloquy recitation test in sophomore English, I would have listened to What A Piece of Work Is Man earlier. Also, kids, if you need a road map through the Gettysburg Address, Abie Baby makes it pretty colorful and fun to memorize. Although Frank Mills was another one of my money songs, I secretly wished I could find two other chicks to sing the funky White Boys with me. I listened to the whole album, falling for the quirky numbers, like My Conviction and Abie Baby. However, once I saw Treat Williams walking onto that plane in the 1979 movie, I get choked up every time The Flesh Failures reprises Manchester, England in minor mode. I would love to be in this show.

7. X - INXS

Michael Hutchence had me hypnotized in all the videos for Kick, and it only got worse when I heard Suicide Blonde. He loved a girl with dark hair in The Loved One, but this blonde bitch made me jealous. Speaking of hair, Michael's looked awesome in the video for Disappear. If I couldn't have him, then I could get a stacked perm and try to look like him. I understand The Stairs so much better now that I live in a big city. The anonymity/closeness of neighbors is an amazing phenomenon. I love the uncomfortably long intro, kinda like the silence you might share with your next door neighbor standing behind them in line at Dominick's.

Originally, I think I loved this album simply because it wasn't as famous as Kick. I wanted it to myself. Later I decided X has more musical integrity, rather than the wanna-be soul sound of its predecessor. On the whole, the album preaches the value of love and togetherness (By My Side, especially), rather than a party album, or something political.

6. She's So Unusual - Cyndi Lauper

This was my first concert. My mom's coworker, Yrene, took this 2nd grader for an overnight trip to Las Cruces for a show at the Pan Am. I got a turquoise t-shirt that had a repeating image of Cyndi on the front, and a pair of hot pink socks, one which read, "She," the other "Bop." My brownie mother called me Cyndi for an entire year after I teased my hair to one side and spray painted it orange for Halloween. Cyndi Lauper is the reason I can't commit to one color of Fiestaware dishes. Cyndi gave me permission to be loud and funny and weird. Thank goodness my mom was okay with this seemingly safe punk diva. I didn't know the real meaning of She Bop for years.

I knew her single and her image. That was enough to make me need that concert. Girls do want to have fun, but I learned all the other songs that night. I do the 80's dance when I hear I'll Kiss You's thumping tom tom groove. Money Changes Everything will have lyrical relevance forever, and the bouncing guitar and squeezebox sounds are undeniably cool. What I didn't understand, but nonetheless appreciated was the sound behind When You Were Mine. It's a duet of Cyndi's sound and Prince's words, but really it's a trio. Cyndi's banshee wail harmonizes with her warm deep manly sound in octaves throughout. Lady's got some pipes, and if this album doesn't convince you, then find a recording of I'm Gonna Be Strong from her band Blue Angel. She's positively superhuman. And not just loud and screamy. Her ballads are beautiful. I don't know how you could have missed Time After Time or All Through The Night. If you did, though, get out the yearbooks and the Kleenex. Jimmy broke your heart in 6th grade, and you'll never get over it, but Cyndi will console you with these torch classics.

5. Grace - Jeff Buckley

And now I present The Catcher in the R---I mean Grace. I'm going to say it. If you've never listened to Grace, you are not cool. This musical martyr's life was short, and the songs he left behind are sweet. It's difficult to describe why I desperately love Jeff Buckley. I should begin with the fact that I'm practically related because his dad was on the last episode of The Monkees.

Jeff Buckley is one of my main vocal inspirations, and I'm ashamed it took me almost a decade after Grace's release to recognize how important he would be to me. I definitely remember hearing Last Goodbye on the radio, but I didn't peel the layers of the onion until I listened to the whole album. This is another instant classic, and not because of Buckley's untimely demise. "It's my time coming I'm not afraid to die," are the prophetic lyrics of the title track. I'm usually partial to the first version I hear, but I've heard even more passionate renditions of Mojo Pin. His live stuff was really good. Jeff Buckley had a reputation for playing too long and too annoying, and either I haven't paid close enough attention or I'm obsessed. I like it all. Lilac Wine always slows down time for me. I almost can't breathe waiting for that first gentle strum that opens up the chorus. I think the whispered, "I love you, but I'm afraid to love you, I'm afraid," in So Real may be the most sexual line in music history--not for the words, but the inflection. Hallelujah. Enough said. Lover, You Should Have Come Over is the sexiest song to ever mention funeral mourners. Corpus Christi Carol isn't for everyone, but I respect the hell out of Jeff for tossing in a ditty from the 16th century, complete with an impossibly high long note at the end. I think Dream Brother is an angry song about his absent dad ditching him repeatedly. Sad, but makes the whole legend of the Buckleys a legend.

4. Photographs and Memories - Jim Croce

"Greatest hits albums are for housewives and little girls." Bruce Mc Cullough, Shame-Based Man.

I was a little girl when this album stole my heart. It has so much humor and beauty. Jim Croce had that innate ability to shut up and write. I can't stop myself. In respective spans of less than 4 minutes, Jim weaves the intricate story of a hustler who loses his pool empire to a guy from Alabama, sings a love song to his child, regrets the mistakes that landed him in jail while buffing a car to a high gloss, dedicates an ode a butch roller derby girl built like a kitchen appliance, recants the exploits of a badass Chicago Southsider, has a vengeful breakup, justifies a sad breakup, describes a stock car driver right down to his two tattoos, then admits that he's not too good at talking.

Right, Jim. You're not too good at the whole talking thing.

3. Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn, and Jones, Ltd. - The Monkees

"And now from the elegant Pomp Room of the magnificent Palmer House high over Chicago asking that musical question..." Believe me, it was tough not to cheat and try to slip in the entire Monkees Box Set. And don't think I love all their songs equally.

PAC&J provides a healthy variety of styles for my short tween attention span. Daily Nightly was the first time I heard the Monkees go psychedelic with Micky on the Moog ( I didn't actually hear Headquarters until later). Peter Percival Patterson's Pet Pig Porky is Peter's spoken word poem that makes children of all ages giggle. Mike gets his well-deserved country chance with Salesman, a ditty about Beelzebub, and the longing apostrophe-fest What Am I Doin' Hangin' 'Round. Hard to Believe is Davy's schmaltzy samba that I grew to appreciate after fast forwarding through it about 70 times. The chunky guitar intro of Love is Only Sleeping might not be on par with Jimmy Page, but heck, it's sure danceable. Super happy tunes Pleasant Valley Sunday, Star Collector, and Cuddly Toy each have deep social themes, well-suited for the Pre-Fab Four's ravenous fans.

I love the cover art, the order of the songs, and the dreamy feeling I get when I close my eyes and spin this disc. Looking back, my inner hippie recognized that Mike got a real shot with the majority of the songs, his five eclipsing Micky's typical stranglehold on the vocals. What can I say? At age 10, I was ready for more challenging bubblegum pop.

2. Painted from Memory - Elvis Costello with Burt Bacharach

I accidentally flipped to Sessions on PBS in '98, and that cheesy piano balladeer was pounding away with... The Veronica guy? It took all of nine seconds to draw me in. Elvis took about three minutes to pay homage to the female backup singer who soloed on My Thief. I got a little angry. You could barely hear her. The more I think about that moment, and each time I listen to that song, I appreciate it more. She was painting on their canvas with the perfect light stroke. God bless the leads who believe in their backup singers.

I don't know anyone else who knows this album, and it makes me sad. Then the I feel so strongly about these arrangements, that I admitted to my opera teacher I wanted to not only sing along with Elvis Costello. I wanted to sing these songs like an opera singer would. The melodies are that beautiful. Walking through a music store in Austin, there it was. Sophie von fucking Otter had recorded an opera version of Painted from Memory. I'm so jealous I didn't get to it first.

Burt Bacharach is a pimp. His style hasn't changed a whit since I'll Never Fall in Love Again. Why? Because what he does works. Someone out there is thinking the same mundane thoughts you are, waxing poetic about borderline stalker jealousy (Tears at the Birthday Party), the city you met your lover (Toledo), your girlfriend moving out(This House is Empty Now). Call it melodramatic. Call Elvis's vocals gushy and strained. This album swings a big pair of wall-of-sound balls. Strings and kettle drums and muted horns. Please learn to love this album. It will make your life richer. Then we can talk about each song.

1. Mama Said - Lenny Kravitz

Before I wanted to marry Lenny Kravitz, I wanted to be him. I heard Always On The Run on MTV, of course. Dirty guitar strums, screeching the verse, a sexy spoken interlude, a bouncy horn section finish. Thank goodness I had wheels to get to the music store. This is the first album I purchased from Sound Warehouse that had explicit lyrics. The fact that they were politically driven (What the F*$k are We Saying) made it defensible in my mind.

I don't remember listening to anything else the summer after my freshman year of high school. This was the coolest thing I had ever heard. Mama Said is the closest I got to jazz until after college. Now, the psychedelic folk renaissance seems a little trite, but Lenny was a frontrunner. In my world, he was alone for a good long time before the Black Crowes and Blind Melon joined in.

Lenny not only sang a love song. He admitted his wrongs, down on his knees. After hearing Stand By My Woman, I kinda wanted a boyfriend to do me wrong, in hopes of getting that kind of apology. And if I couldn't have a jerk boyfriend, maybe he could at least dedicate Butterfly to me. The fusion of jazz (What Goes Around Comes Around), soul (It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over), and Lenny's rock jones (Stop Draggin' Around), peppered with respites of sweet ballads, make it possible to enjoy Mama Said on repeat, ad infinitum.

Even though Lenny bared almost all in the video for Again, I have to end by saying I will never get over the day he cut off his dreds. Nice try, Lenny.

Freek Five 2/17 - 2/23

I'm taking the 10-day challenge! I read a few articles on fiber: soluble versus insoluble, percentage of each you need, how to up your intake, etc. I've tried to eat a sensible cereal (ER Vital 100), but one article suggested Bran Buds. I tried it, and it's a difference of 10 grams of fiber per serving! I'll be honest, I probably eat more of a 1/2 cup serving rather than the suggested 1/3, but I'm not beating myself up about it. Try it. Throw a little Splenda and 1% milk in there, let it soak up a little. Yes, it looks like dry cat food. Roger is totally confused. but I think it's a good choice.

Another article suggested throwing some beans in your salad. I eat two a day, and put a handful of garbanzos in. Love me some garbanzos! My salad has really evolved in these few weeks from Romaine, cucumber, edamame and tomato to spinach, bell pepper, garbanzos, tomatos, cucumber, and cabbage. This week I'm doing red cabbage just to keep it interesting. I also broke down and went for light dressing. I really don't like it. Can anyone tell me if there is a Nicoise dressing in a bottle? It's my fave--maybe I should just make it at home.

I've switched from the generic 100 calorie bars with 5 grams of fiber to Fiber Plus bars which have 9. It's a difference of 20-30 calories, but it's totally worth it. They have two great flavors, dark chocolate almond and milk chocolate chip.

I had to buy some new fish oil capsules, and the bargain hunter in me just wouldn't shell out another couple bucks for the tasteless variety. Trust me, pay the extra couple bucks. I wish I had. Now I'm stuck with two giant bottles of fish oil that remind me they're in my tummy for a good hour after eating them. Small price to pay, lesson learned.

Lastly, to choke down 4+ liters of water a day, I've been spicing it up with Crystal Light. There are only about 4 flavors I like, and they're getting old. Ocean Spray came out with some new cran-varieties of take'n'shakes for your water bottle. They are GREAT!!!!!

2/17 - Breakfast: 1/2 Grapefruit, cereal, yogurt Lunch: ER Black Bean Soup, salad, cheese stick Snack: Pear, cheese stick Dinner: ER Spaghetti, salad, brussels sprouts, 100 calorie bar, skinny vanilla latte.

2/18 Workout: 15 min walk 3.5 mph 6.0 incline, 45 min run 5.8 mph 0.5 incline Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, cereal, yogurt Lunch: ER Black Bean Soup, salad, cheese stick Snack: Pear, cheese stick, 7 Hershey kisses Dinner: ER turkey meatloaf, zucchini, salad, 100 calorie bar, glass of red wine.

2/19 Workout: 60 min walking 3.5 mph 8.0 incline Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, yogurt, cereal, coffee Snack: 1.5 cups popcorn, bite of Bernard's chicken pie and spinach dip. Oh. My. God. It was good. Lunch: Campbell's Select Harvest Italian Vegetable Soup, salad, cheese stick Snack: Pear, cheese stick Dinner: ER Soy protein burger with swiss cheese, green chile, and grilled onions, sweet potato fries, salad, Fiber Plus bar.

2/20 Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, cereal, yogurt, coffee Snack: 2 small brownies Lunch: 1/2 brisket sandwich, cole slaw, mac 'n' cheese Dinner: An embarrassing assortment of chips/dip, pita/hummus, tomatillo soup, beer, wine, cookie. Happy birthday, Kelly!

2/21 Breakfast 1/2 grapefruit, cereal, yogurt, skinny vanilla latte Lunch: Progresso Lentil soup (yum!), salad Snack: Fiber Plus bar Workout: 40 min running 6.0 mph 0.5 incline, 20 min walking 3.5 mph 8.0 incline Dinner ER Basil cream chicken pasta, beet, salad, Fiber Plus bar Snack: Smart pop popcorn.

2/22 Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, cereal, yogurt, coffee Lunch: Campbell's Select Harvest Light Savory Chicken with Vegetables (delicious), salad, cheese stick Snack: Pear, cheese stick Dinner: ER Soy protein burger with swiss cheese, green chile, grilled onions, beet, sweet potato fries, salad, Fiber Plus Bar Snack: Smart pop popcorn.

2/23 Breakfast: 1/2 grapefruit, cereal, yogurt, coffee Lunch: Progresso Light Roasted Chicken & Vegetable soup, salad, cheese stick Snack: Pear, cheese stick Workout: 45 min elliptical/treadmill Dinner: ER soy protein burger with green chile, onions, muenster cheese, yellow squash, brussels sprouts, salad, Fiber plus bar Snack: Smart Pop Popcorn.