A Soundtrack for Shouldering

April 30, 2013

A Soundtrack for Shouldering

            My taste in music is eclectic; I blame my parents.  I was raised in a household where, while the primary music genre we heard was country and western, there was nothing unusual about hearing Frank Sinatra, Jerry Lee Lewis, Elvis, and Nat King Cole all in the same day.  I remember the day when I was eight or nine, and a package arrived in the mail from Columbia House Records.  Dad had apparently decided that we needed some musical culture in the house and had ordered the Great Masterpieces of Classical Music, four or five giant LP’s that were played so much that the phonograph needle eventually stuck in some of the grooves.  On a single day in our house we might move from the melodic strains of The Blue Danube to the pounding piano chords of Great Balls of Fire and on to Fats Domino’s Blueberry Hill without thinking that anything unusual had taken place. Considering my musical upbringing, it’s not surprising that my playlist for walking on the shoulder of the road is a mixed bag of styles and artists.

            Initially, I listened to audiobooks when I was walking.  I thought listening to a book would distract me from the physical demands of the walk.  The books were enjoyable enough; I chuckled at Rachel Maddow’s snarky narration of her book, Drift, and the crazy premise of Abraham Lincoln Vampire Slayer kept me totally entertained as well.  I did quickly discover, however, that I couldn’t listen to erotic romances.  I kept slowing down and closing my eyes, not a good idea on a four-lane highway.

            My move from audiobooks to a music playlist occurred by accident.  On one of my walks, the audiobook I was listening to failed, so, two miles into my route, I was forced to switch to a recently created playlist.  I discovered that the music energized me, and I knocked several minutes off my total walking time.

            Creating a playlist for my iPod was a newly acquired skill at that point.  I got the idea after reading Fifty Shades of Grey.  Yes, I know, lots of people got lots of ideas after reading those novels, but one element of the books that I’ve never heard discussed were the music references that occur throughout the trilogy.  I investigated some of the titles and discovered a gold mine of wonderful music, classical and pop.  I tried my hand at setting up a playlist on my computer, and the result was one list I called, Grey Tie Songs—the sensual, sexy ones—and another entitled, Classical Grey, a compilation of breathtaking operatic and instrumental pieces.

            At the same time I was learning to create playlists, I discovered a website, walk.jog.fm, that provides a long list of songs based on their beats per minute as a means of creating a more rigorous walking program.  The website included titles of all different genres and time periods, and, while my playlist includes plenty of familiar classic songs, thanks to the website, I incorporated songs that were new and unfamiliar to me, even though some of them had been released a number of years ago. These tunes and the groups who performed them probably weren’t on my radar because I deemed them too young for me or some of that weird music the kids were listening to—say that last part in a crotchety, old geezer voice.  Since I only wanted musical pieces as background to my walk, I let go of any judgment about my music and their music and just enjoyed.

            The Black-Eyed Peas are a perfect example. Of course, I knew who the Black-Eyed Peas were.  Heck, I even knew who will.i.am and Fergie were, but I’d never really listened to their music.  Now, Pump It, Rock That Body, and Boom Boom Pow are three of my favorite, most energizing songs to walk to.  In the same way I would never have listened to Green Day’s American Idiot or Fall Out Boy’s Sugar We’re Goin Down before the playlist; I love both songs.  It wasn’t Adam Levine’s antics on The Voice that made me a fan; I came to appreciate him as he, and the rest of Maroon 5, crooned in my ear that it was, “getting harder and harder to breathe.”  Maybe feeling better about myself, physically and mentally, has made it easier to move out of my rut; anyway, my internal geezer is off in a dark corner somewhere waiting for me to come to my senses.

            Some of the songs appeal to me because they have distinctive beginnings that refocus my attention on the road and help me maintain a lively walking pace.  The opening chords of Joe Walsh’s Rocky Mountain Way always lead me to include a little head banging motion and some air guitar while I step a little quicker along the roadside.  Although Roy Orbison’s Pretty Woman and Justin Timberlake’s Sexy Back certainly aren’t contemporaneous tunes, the sensual, pounding start of each song causes me to throw my chest out and add a little more swing in my backyard as I move down the highway. And, when I hear the iconic opening notes of Grand Funk’s We’re an American Band, all I want to do is yell, “More cowbell!” and pump my legs even faster.

             I’m transported back in time by a lot of the old tunes on my playlist.  Peaches and Herb’s disco classic, Shake Your Groove Thing, makes me smile as I remember being on the dance floor with friends, …bumpin’ booties, havin’ us a ball;  while Eddie Money’s Take Me Home Tonight and Led Zeppelin’s Black Dog call to mind steamy car windows and some heavy duty make-out sessions in high school.  And, even though I’m outside walking on the highway, every time Born to be Wild begins to play, I swear I can smell a distinctive aroma wafting through the air.

            Some of my favorite walking tunes are what I think of as “tough broad” songs.  When I’m walking on the side of the road, and Alannah Myles starts threatening to Rock This Joint, I suddenly feel like I’m wearing a black, leather jacket and motorcycle boots, and any bikers who hoot at me as they ride by get a curled lip snarl because on the shoulder I’m as tough as she is.  I’m able to tear up the hills faster with more energy when Kelly Clarkson assures me that what doesn’t kill me makes me Stronger.  And, whether it’s Carrie Underwood’s Cowboy Casanova, Shania Twain’s Any Man of Mine, or, even, Aretha Franklin’s Respect, I figure, along with the exercise, I’m getting some great relationship advice from gals who know what’s what.

             I’ve never fallen while walking—although, I probably just jinxed myself—but I’ve come close on a couple of occasions when I was unconsciously trying to dance and walk at the same time when the first guitar chords of Footloose began to wail.  Elton John’s You’re Sister Can’t Dance has the same effect on me.  Two or three songs on the playlist, like Gloria Estefan’s Conga and Ricky Martin’s She Bangs fall into the Latin, salsa genre that also make me want to dance.  I have to be on guard against allowing too much derriere swinging out on the highway when those songs come on. Don’t want to distract any truck drivers.

             I won’t let myself listen to the playlist unless I’m walking, so I don’t get bored with it, and I’m always looking for new songs to include, ones that have the requisite number of beats and, maybe, some sexy undertones. But whether it’s the godfather of soul declaring to me that he feels good or Carly Rae Jepsen pleading in her baby voice to “call me maybe,” I love every number on my eclectic playlist.