The Finch at the Feeder

It is nearly nine o'clock. (does o'clock mean of clock? or on the clock? hold on...okay. it means "of the clock" and people started saying it in the early 1600s.) I opened the bar at 7 and so far I have only had two customers-- a couple that sat down at the bar and started fighting with each other. I am now huddled at the other end, and it reminds me a little of going to visit my father and stepmom when I was young. Or when I watched The Breakup.

Finals week has proven more relaxing than it is probably supposed to be. I got the mean mofo final out of the way early, probably sinking my Political Science grade in the process. Since then, it's been pretty smooth sailing. Doing my Broken Plate project was pretty fun, free pizza was even more fun, and writing my COMM 375 final was a total breeze. I've got this lame health test tomorrow, but I am not sweating it.

Speaking of sweat--I need to resume my perfect push-up regimen. Last week left me way too tired, but that thing really works, and I like how handsy Stevi gets when I do it every other day. Only problem is I usually have to shower afterward.

Speaking of showers (okay, you caught me, that segue was totally forced), I was the happy recipient of a pretty incredible shower mirror today. It has a light, clock, and razor-holder on it, and it doesn't fog up. It honestly made a big difference in my shave (much smoother), so if someone is looking for a last-minute Christmas gift, I'd consider it.

Speaking of considering it, if someone offered me a grand to deck a unwitting strangerwoman in the face, I would absolutely consider it. Isn't that awful?

On second thought, I'm almost sure I wouldn't do it. Phew.

My favorite Christmas song is "Baby It's Cold Outside," followed closely by "Christmas Time is Here." "Zat You Santa Clause?" is without question my least favorite Christmas song.

The couple has made up, which means I need to talk to them. I hope everyone has a good Christmas countdown week.

I’ve always wanted to sing “One Week” at karaoke. I’ve known all the words (and have been able to spit them out without incident) since the song hit the radio back in 1998. I remember hearing the line “I have a tendency / to wear my mind on my sleeve / I have a history of loosing my shirt” and thinking that Ed Robertson was the next Oscar Wilde. I feel a little ashamed that I got wind of Barenaked Ladies at the same time everyone else did, but it’s appropriate—they’re one of the few pop groups that I foster an undying allegiance to.

Stunt was the first CD I ever owned. I am not counting Shania Twain’s The Woman in Me, which I think (hope) was actually my mom’s. I got it from a friend for my 13th birthday, which was consequently also my first serious boy/girl party. 1998 was a big year for me.

After I got that album, I listened to it endlessly. I made my mom play it in the car wherever we went, despite some half-hearted protests. I played it in my discman on the bus, at lunch, at recess, after school. I played it in my CD player while I studied, while I read, while I played Nintendo. I went to sleep to “When You Dream,” I woke up to “Light Up My Room.” This also marked the beginning of my literal phase, obviously. I could still write every lyric down for you, if you asked.

The truth is, this isn’t a wonderful record. It’s extremely easy to listen to. It’s fun and smart and goofy, definitely the emblematic Barenaked Ladies album. It’s them at their most controlled. I’ve always admired the kid who can act up without making a huge mess. Tracks like “Who Needs Sleep?” and “Alcohol” are smarmy but likable anyway. That’s a staple of Barenaked Ladies, but they really pull it off here.

Another thing I’ve always admired about this record is how well it captures the whole kid-trapped-in-an-adult’s-body mentality. Songs like “In The Car,” which is about the excitement about first experiences with sex, but from the point of view of someone who is really afraid that he might never feel that way again. The emotional heart of the album, “Call and Answer” remains one of the highest entries on my list of songs that really touch me. I don’t think a band could write a more powerful sober moment amidst an otherwise juvenile venture. Plus, it’s a great track for a mix CD.

There are lots of albums I like more than this one. There are definitely a lot of albums that are better than this one. I hated that this album knocked another one out of my top eleven. But the truth is, this was the first piece of music that ever meant anything to me. And it led to me going to 3 different Barenaked Ladies concerts, buying every album, EP and exclusive track, and defending them vigorously when drunk. Regardless of who you are, love of music has to start somewhere. Mine started here.