My Love smells like Coppertone.
Sorry Sir Paul but it's true. I hear the song My Love – I smell Coppertone. I smell Coppertone I hear My Love. Its like a Mobius strip of swimming pool flashback. Coppertone, frozen Milky Way candy bars and the radio. For me, this is a sure fire way to put myself back into a Summer mood.
I recently read an article claiming that the Beach Boys song Surfin' USA was the number one Song of Summer. Oh sure, it's about surfing and the ocean and it's sung by cute tan boys with blonde, windblown hair. Whatever.
Here on the Coast of Illinois the only waves we have are those amber ones of grain. It is nearly impossible to surf on those. Sorry Beach Boys. You are just not relatable.
Smokin' in the Boys Room – that's a summer song I can get behind. And Layla. Those put me smack in the corner of the dining hall at Lake Calhoun. That's when the lake association held dances for the poor teens who were stuck there in campers with their parents. I loved the music. I hated the dances. This was prime 1970's. Girls wore mini skirts and heavy bangs with stick straight hair or flowing hippie skirts with stick straight hair.
I, however, embodied the Janis Ian model of gawk. Frizzy shag haircut, dorky denim overall-shorts. I would stand in the dark corner and imagine how awesome my life would be if I had been born with hair like that girl form camping spot B34. Her and her perfect bangs and headband. With all the cute guys hanging around.
She probably put out.
As a more mature adult, the Commodores became my summer trigger. These were the years when my husband, who was into rock climbing, and I would load up our hatchback and head north to Devil's Lake, Wisconsin. We would leave the Coast behind around 8pm, after work and school. Around midnight WLS would get in a Commodores mood. Stuck on You. Still. Three Times a Lady. I hear those songs and I am transported to a truck stop on the toll road outside Joliet.
These days, I lean more toward beach oriented music. Sheryl Crow's Soak Up the Sun was big the first time we took our kids to the Gulf of Mexico. I hear that song and I dig out my pukka bead choker and ankle bracelet. For a chick from here in Cornfield USA, she can sure evoke a nice beach mood. In fact, this song is the title of one of my favorite playlists.
Which is how I listen to music now. I rarely listen to traditional radio. Its satellite and Pandora around this house. And of course, the ipod.
And, according to the ipod – Banana Republic is my current Number One with a Bullet song.
It's an old Jimmy Buffet tune about chucking it all and living the ex-pat life in the islands.
Now that is something I can relate to.