Just a Saturday

Oh, Belinda Carlisle. You and your dancing in the "Head Over Heels" video.

The Great Music Project continued for a chunk of today, but at this point, I'm into cleaning it up.

Most of the heavy lifting seems to be done, with thanks to AJ Szymanowski, who tipped me off to a database that helps fill in some blanks.

There's still more to do, but I'm in a much better place than I was.

Still, it reminded me, as I peered through the window of musical regret, what the hell was I thinking with some of the downloads? I mean, I actually spent money on some of this dreck?

But different times call for different sounds and different laughs.

In the process, I eradicated roughly 1,500 songs from my iTunes. A Bon Jovi album bit the dust, and I took joy in saying "Ta ta" to the Spice Girls.

Both were items I acquired from others when they gave me their entire catalog of music.

On the other hand, I cleaned up the Bon Jovi greatest hits album that I have and didn't delete it.

I cut deep at times, and I was proud of myself for doing so. Practicality and common sense (which is simply not that common) won the day!

In the midst of this sort of strange week, my son announced he had gotten his learners permit. I'm proud of him for taking that initiative and for wanting to surprise me. It was wonderful. Now we need to hit the road.

But first, he's heading to a party tonight at a friends house. One thing I've avoided in my life has been the late-night pickups for whatever reason. So I have no reason to say no, even if it means going from Mahopac to Hopewell Jct and having to hangout up that way until I pick him up around 11.

If you know him, you know he's a great kid, dude, young man...

Wait. He asked me for a razor today. Although he has shaved, he hasn't done so here.

So I guess he's a man of 17.

We're not going to have a "Cats in the Cradle" moment though.

I just noticed I have a copy of that in my iTunes. It's the only Harry Chapin song I own, and that's sad.

I'm also deficient on Phil Collins. No, I mean good Phil Collins.

And Joni Mitchell. While Tom Hanks once said -- playfully -- "I could never be with someone who likes Joni Mitchell," I assure that I can.

He said it You've Got Mail, and it makes sense if you've seen the movie.

Even though I have thousands of songs, there are still plenty of things that I lack.

By the way, while I'm enjoying the pleasant "Kumbaya" feeling of the Yankees/Mets peace accord, all it will take is one obnoxious fan to have me spouting like a Mitch Williams fastball ("Wild Thing," you know).

So let's please let sleeping dogs lie, shall we?

I'll never understand why some have to poke the bear.

I rediscovered I have both versions of "Pretty in Pink" by the Psychedelic Furs. Here's the movie version, which I'd forgotten that I owned.