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My Music
Notes
If I'm
the first person to write how music can change lives and shape moods,
congratulate me, for this statement will be really big some day. I have a
hunch I'm not the first to say it, but I like to humour myself so nyah nyah
na nyah nyah!
Music
is played at weddings to celebrate and bless a union. It's played at
funerals to comfort the mourning and to remind them of a loved one in better
days. Music brings people to their feet at Baseball and Football games
driving fans into a frenzy with just a few chords on an organ. Music is a
form people of faith use to worship and it even defines cultures like an
African drum beat or a Scottish bagpipe. When you first fall in love, you
can't tell me that even the sappiest of Top 40 songs doesn't play over and
over again in your head and you find yourself personalising each and every
one.
I can
be in the foulest of moods en route to work. Maybe my alarm clock was set
on the news station and then my hair refused to behave. History will show
that I stepped on at least five Legos barefoot en route to the bathroom and
I misplaced my watch. I probably spent twenty minutes finding my car keys
when I live but two or three blocks from the restaurant's back parking
area. I develop road rage quicker than anyone in the a.m. hours and those
college students can walk SO slow across their cross walks that it's all I
can do to not use my bumper as a cow catcher and plow through them. Put a
college kid on the back of a tortoise and they'll yell "Weeeeeee!!!" I can
be muttering to myself as I park; muttering to myself as I walk through the
back door; muttering to myself as I swipe my card to clock in, but then I
hear the blaring music from the kitchen. It's concentrated to one small
area of the restaurant and not watered down a bit. Ahhhh yes, I can feel
the Tinnitus coating my eardrums. The Doors are shaking the foundation and
it's an hour before we open. It looks like it's going to be a great day.
I'm suddenly transformed to this sing-along girly. I'm waving a "good
morning" to all as I fill the reach-in cooler with salad dressings. I'm
sliding containers of tomato wedges down the stainless steel table as if I'm
Tom Cruise in "Cocktail". "Let it roll, baby, roll! Let it roll, baby,
roll!" is my new mantra and the only thing I can hear. God bless the
opening shift!
When
the front doors open, the music is turned down and filtered into the dining
room. I find myself singing along to 'Saturday Night Fever"… the parts I
know, anyway. My co-workers and I make fun of most of the other songs, but
it keeps the mood light and fun. While making salads in the back, Phil and
I make up new words to duets as they come on. We have a gift of making
Aaron Neville and Linda Ronstadt just plain vulgar. My tips are looking
good because of this light attitude I'm giving off. I'm personable because
I'm happy. I'm happy because I'm having fun. I'm having fun because the
music is just so damn good.
The
restaurant fills up quickly as noon rolls around. All my tables are filled
but I can still hum as I'm entering orders on the computers. Passing
waitresses ask what the artists name is on the radio and we make a game of
guessing. There's always someone there, mainly our bartender, who can name
any song and any artist of the last 30 years. It's a game we can play no
matter how hectic it is. The only skills it uses is walking by and saying a
name of a band and seeing if the person can yell a title after you. To the
visitor, it must seem odd to watch a waitress walk by, suddenly blurt "Huey
Lewis" to the bar and in mid-stride have "I Want a New Drug" shouted after
her. I wonder if that could bring in police inquiries. Hmm.
Yet,
at times music can be an obstacle. Imagine, if you will, a full eatery and
bar. Booths and tables full of faces line each aisle way. These aisles are
your roads to your tables which happen to be farthest from the kitchen which
means you have to walk past everyone in the place to serve your guests. As
you begin to walk, large pitchers of beer in hand, "Lady Marmalade" starts
playing. Maybe I'm just hypersensitive, but I tend to freeze up at the end
of the aisle. The loud soulful moans of "More...more...MORE!" make me a
little uncomfortable. Suddenly it feels as if there's a spotlight on me.
Voices have hushed and heads are turning. I feel as if I'd need to "work
it" half naked to get to my destination just 10 feet away, while "he waits
in her boudoir while she freshens up". I thought this was the only song to
do this to me, until one day the old one hit wonder of "I'm too Sexy" came
on mid-stride to a party of 10. I just couldn't do that little turn on the
cat walk. Tips begin to look like g-string charity when that beat goes on.
My
friends Diane and Nicole, whom have since left the restaurant to go work
about two and half hours away, had this magical quality about them.
Whenever we were ready to leave, wanting to clock out, mentally using our
Jedi Mind tricks to get the manager to send us home, a certain song always
came on the radio and it would happen. The first few notes of "Starry Eyed
Surprise" would play and we would look at each other, then to the manager
who would suddenly look up and announce, "We're cutting the floor now."
Even after they moved away, it still happens. I've never heard that song
play and had to stay. Nor have I ever heard the song and not thought of our
fun times and missed them. It was our freedom chorus. I meant "freedom",
too. I wasn't exchanging the word "French" in the least.
Where
one song may be a freedom chorus, another is my Theme song. As long as I'm
occupied in this occupation, I can't help but hear these words by Live as I
pass my time in an apron. The only disclaimer is obvious… I've never worn a
funky barrette and damn if I plan on getting Aids. But hells, if it helps
me and others like me to get better tips, "Tip Big to Stop AIDS" should be
the new U.S. Department of Health slogan. Enjoy.
Waitress
come on baby leave some change behind
she was a bitch, but i don't care
she brought our food out on time
and wore a funky barrette in her hair
come on baby leave some change behind
she was a bitch but good enough
to leave some change, everybody's good
enough for some change
the girl's got family
she needs cash to buy aspirin for
her pain, everybody's good enough
for some change
we all get the flu, we all get aids
we've got to stick together
after all, everybody's good enough
for some change, SOME FUCKING CHANGE!!! |
