Music lessons with my brother

I was 14, I think. I was sitting in my bedroom, or cleaning, or something.

Marc Anthony was singing “You Sang to Me” on the radio.

My brother walked in.

“Bailey,” he said, after approaching the stereo. “As your big brother, I have to do this.”

He turned the stereo off.

And then he exited my room.

Apparently he wasn’t much of a fan.

I’ve had several educational moments with this particular brother (who I won’t name because sometimes he gets weird about me mentioning things about him, and I’m not sure if his love of pop music would be on that list) regarding music over the years. And by “educational” I mean sometimes educational, sometimes just bonding.

There was the time he explained to me why Britney’s “Oops I did it, Again” was not wholesome – though this conversation was encompassed by our main conversation which was about how we both liked the song.

We both loved Vitamin C’s “Smile” around the same time, though he may have feigned additional interest on my behalf, for the sake of sibling bonding. I bought the single and he let me play it in the car.

But there are certain songs – Marc’s “You Sang to Me” being among them – that, generally without fail, make me think of this particular big brother of mine. Every time I hear these songs. Below is our musical, sibling anthology.

First up we have Celine Dion’s “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now.” Brother bought me this CD in 2004, upon discovery that I didn’t yet own All the Way: A Decade of Song. He felt my not owning it was inappropriate for my life.

CD was purchased and immediately played in the car.

A melodramatic rendition was sung by us both, but the moment I remember in particular is centered around the lyric: “but you were history with the slamming of the door.”

After “door,” there is a barrumph sound to indicate a door -- yes, you guessed it -- slamming.

During our melodramatic singing of a melodramatic song, Brother took a hand from the steering wheel to do a sweeping motion with it, and used his voice to really get at the drama of the moment --

of the slamming

of the door.

Barrumph.

In keeping with our diva segment, let’s now move on over to our favorite country belle (who I want to see in Vegas, pretty please, anyone who wants to join me), Shania.

Brother introduced me to the song I’m about to mention, because he first owned her greatest hits album before I (I purchased a copy along with a Celine magnet in Vegas earlier this year, and was so distracted by singing along with it on the way back to LA that I drove five miles in the wrong direction).

The song is “The Woman in Me.”

There’s a line that goes:

The woman in meeeeee
Needs you to beeeeeeee
the man in my arrrrrrrms
to hold tenderleeeeeeeeeeee

Now, Brother takes his own take on the “tenderlyyyyyyy” portion of the song, and by this I mean he mocks Ms. Twain’s way of uttering it.

When I first heard this song, with Brother, of course, I was thinking, “Nice song,” when suddenly I hear over Shania’s “tenderleeeeeeeeeeee”

Brother’s “ten-DUH-leeeeeeeeeeeeee”

Emphasis on the “duh.”

It is just very nearly impossible for me to hear this song and not also imagine my brother singing it. And while I think it’s a beautiful, sentimental, romantic ballad, I can’t help but laugh – at least a little bit on the inside – while trying to mimic Shania’s pitch in a sort of serious manner. It’s one of those inside jokes that just never dies.

While I love the ten-DUH-leeeeeeeeeeeee thing, I think this last song may be my favorite among all the Brother musical educational moments of history so far.

Or at least it’s one I think about a lot, because he pointed something out to me about a song that I really hadn’t thought about until he said something. And now I can’t help but think of the thing he pointed out, so I really owe that to him.

First thing’s first – we’re all familiar with the basic concept of the Backstreet Boys’ “The Call,” yes?

If not (shaking my head), watch this video and then join us again, please. We’ll wait.

So, to recap, for those of you who are missing out and decided not to watch the video (you know who you are), the aforementioned song, "The Call," involves a guy (or, five guys singing in harmony) telling his girl (five girls, listening in harmony?) that he’s going out to the club, so he ain't available to talk to his girl(s), when the dirty truth! is that he’s cheating on her and he's acting like his phone is about to die, but it is working just fine!

[ANGST]

So, as I mentioned before, I never really realized a small detail to this song until Brother pointed it out with classy and humorous mockery.

This educational musical lesson took place while I was in high school, again in my bedroom, radio playing (because this was before the Christmas when he bought me The Hits -- Chapter One).

Brother started to pontificate about not so much the song or the concept of the song itself, but – and he got really deep here, guys, so mentally prepare yourselves for this – rather about the career of one of the BSBoys and his assigned part in the song.

It wasn’t really until I started working at a business journal in my twenties that I really started thinking about the moving parts of a business or working group of people, but I owe it to Brother for opening my eyes about the individual players in a boy band.

Thank you, Brother. Thank you for that.

So. We were listening to this song, and he started chuckling, laughing at the line in the song: “My battery is low.”

You’ll note this line at about 1:45 in the video above, in which one of our BSBoys adds a point to his cheating message to us naïve girls who were listening at home.

Homestar in the song goes on and on about how he’ll be out late tonight with “the guys” (sure) and so she (we) shouldn’t expect to hear from him.

Then another homestar, subtly – but surely – jumps in for his big SOLO MOMENT and tells us, “My battery is low,” to inform the naïve teeny boppers that his phone is supposedly going to die and so “Don’t even bother trying to call back, lady.”

Whoa, pause. I just had a vision of a BSB & Beyonce/Gaga mashup of the former’s “The Call” and the latter’s “Telephone” – whoa. That would be epic. All royalties better be sent to me, y’all, since I had the idea on this one.

Phew. Give me a sec.

Oh my goodness. Sorry, not done. This idea is burgeoning in my mind and I must get it out.

The premise for the audio/video mashup would be a girls against guys medley, where they’re singing at and over each other, like they’re in a fight. She’s all over here at the club dancing, can’t hold her drink and phone and dance all at once, brother. Meanwhile they’re over there trying to pull a fast one on her and girl don’t even care!! Cause she be dancing.

She’s k-kinda busy.

This is the best idea I’ve had all day.

OK, back. Where were we? Ah, yes. “The Call.”

So Brother started laughing at this battery part. He said, “Can you imagine? This guy just stands in the background for the whole song, then” (and here Brother took a step forward) “steps forward and sings, ‘MY BATTERY IS LOW!’ and then” (Brother steps back to original position) “his part is over.”

This is thought provoking stuff, it really is.

So much so, that 15-some years later, I’m still thinking about it as The Hits -- Chapter One blares in my Corolla as I cruise (crawl) down the 405.

Airport Celeb Sighting

I have a shirt that says, "Pour Que Tu M'Aimes Encore" on it in hot pink letters. For those of you non-Celine freaks, that is the name of her all time biggest French hit.

I was wearing this shirt at the airport today and the barista at the Starbucks who waited on me looked at it and began to read it aloud.

"Celine?," he said.

"Yes, I love her!"

And he says, wait for it...

"You look like her."

I said to the guy, "she's not exactly blonde," and he said, "no, but your face looks like hers."

NO I DO NOT look like celine dion, but if he wants to hit on me by saying it, I will take it! Perfect start to my day! I called my dad and woke him up at 6am to tell him. Needless to say, HIGHLIGHT of my day.

Birthday Boy Brad (1 day late)

Okay, Bailey made a big mistake. So yesterday was Brad's birthday!!!!!!!!!! Happy birthday, Brad!!!!!!!! Well I totally intended to make yesterday's post in honor of Brad, and I did not forget that it was his birthday, and I told him happy birthday, I just forgot to make the post all about him. But I had full intentions of doing so. So I know all of you are rolling your eyes at all the Brad talk in every post, but here are some of my favorite Brad memories. An anthology, if you will. This is an extremely abbreviated version, mind you:

One night, after the store was closed to customers, I was in the back doing dishes, and Brad was out front, screaming “My Heart Will Go On.” When he finished his concert, he said, “I am going on tour!”

Another night after we had clocked out, we made a French press of coffee and went out on the patio to drink it together. It was surprisingly cold, so we grabbed all of the sweatshirts that other employees had left behind and layered them on us. Of course, chance would have it, that I threw on the two sweatshirts that were five sizes too big for me, and he grabbed the size three junior girls sweatshirt and vest. “I feel so hot right now,” he said, and refused to switch with me.

I have perhaps a few inappropriate customer crushes, but there is one in particular who Brad likes to make fun of me for the most. Whenever this guy comes into the store, Brad will disappear to the back, and say things like, "Ooh, Mike*, you're so sexy, lookin' good tonight, [etc.]," so that I can hear it through the headset (that we wear for drive thru customers) while I am trying to talk to this guy. I have gotten used to this, so I will take my headset off right away because I cannot keep a straight face while he is saying these things. When said crush takes his seat with his drink, Brad will come out on the floor and pretend to reprimand me, "Bailey, I'm gonna need you to keep your headset on...[eye roll]...Yeah, thanks."

*not his real name

Love you, Braden, here's to many more b-days!

Lost

Kim leaves for the Peace Corps tomorrow. Corie leaves for Boston in August. The 'rents and sibs who I am so close to live hundreds of miles away from me. I won't lie, I'm feeling a little (or a lot) helpless at times. I fear what will happen to friendships, I fear that I will miss deadlines for big life choices for myself. Then I remember that God is in charge of the perfect timing and I am not, but for a person who doesn't consider herself a control freak, I guess I do desire a little bit of control in that area. It's not exactly a funny joke to me if I realize I should have taken the GRE 3 days ago in order to get into a program that starts in 2 years, and now I have to wait a whole extra year to apply (that didn't really happen, this is hypothetical. That said, I would not be even a little surprised if that did happen to me, hence my concern).

My mom was thinking out loud the other day and realized how long a year can be for someone in their lower 20s, and I was glad she had the epiphany because that is something I struggle for my elders to understand on a daily basis. To tell someone, "oh it's just a year of your life" when they are 24 years old: People. That is 1/24th of my life. To my dad that is only 1/60th of his life. Of course he can shrug it off better than I can. Hence my occasional panic attacks while steaming milk at work, feeling the sudden desperate need to run out the door, board a plane and fly to whatever city or country I want to spend my thirties in, chat up all the single men on the flight there, so that when we touch down I've got a diamond on my finger and we can cross that marriage step off the list.

This is not making a whole lot of sense.

I was telling my friend Brittani the other day that when I was growing up, I very rarely compared myself to others. Seriously. I walked into middle school and totally missed the memo about self-consciousness. I was like, "So...explain to me again why I'm supposed to stop enjoying myself because that girl has a boyfriend/is cuter than me/has more friends than me?" When I went to middle school I was so excited that I had seven teachers in one day. And a locker for my books? Sold. So really, it just didn't phase me. I think it's in my genes, particularly the set from Daddy. Dad's motto is, and it's not really a motto at all, it's a serious mantra for him: "Never give up your right to be easily entertained." What can I say? I'm a good listener, and an obedient one (note extreme enjoyment of locker ownership above).

But...in my twenties, it is SO HARD not to compare my life to others. I was talking to Kelly back in February, and he called me out on it and said, "Bailey, I'm hearing a lot of what your life isn't, but what about what your life is?" My answers to that question were a little lacking and therefore depressing, but it put things into perspective. All I seemed to be able to report to him was what my friends were up to--what made me jealous. In today's culture and world, you can do just about anything and everything when you're young. This is why all the older adults think it's so great to be this age (which, I'm sure the wise elders are right on a lot of things, I don't mean to get into a generation conflict here). I told Brittani, at my age I could be in the Peace Corps, married, single, with kids, without kids, in a steady job, in an unsteady job, in the Americorps, overseas, on the coast, in Kansas (check). The possibilities are endless.

Point being here, friends, this is what is on my heart. Just wanted to share--which is the point of this blog, so good work, Bails. Mission accomplished. I do hope that in reading, you guys come across feelings you can identify with (be it mad love for Celine Dion or frustrations in growing up). Much love and coalition to you.

A Time for Love

My friend Samantha told me once that she could see me with an older man. I asked her why and she said that while some of her friends have a lot of strength because of their education, or their race, she told me "I don't know where your strength comes from." She said that men our age couldn't understand me. "They're just boys," she said.

I just watched the movie "Suburban Girl," based on the book "The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing" by Melissa Bank, a book I loved. It's about a young woman with an older man. Last night Brad and I were talking about who we were just a few years ago and who we are now, how our opinions have changed, how the churches we attend now we probably couldn't have attended before. In "Suburban Girl," the young woman ultimately leaves her boyfriend, because she tells him that she sees a teacher when she looks at him and that he sees a student. She says that in order to grow up, she has to leave him. All this has me thinking about how much and yet in some ways how little we all change over time. The girl in the movie was able to love a man in a very different life stage as her, yet she also recognized that there would be a difference in her life if she married him or explored the years ahead of her with someone else. She knew she would change as she aged no matter what, and that who was standing beside her in the future would affect that.

My friends make fun of me all the time for being a Celine Dion fan, and when they're not making fun of that they're making fun of the fact that her husband is 26 years older than her. I always get defensive and tell them what I truly believe and that is that "love is love."

That's all. My mind is not exactly organized today, so today I give you the gift of ramblings. I blame the rain, delicious springtime rain. Yay for a day off.