No Roots by Alice Merton

I was sitting at the hairdresser getting highlights and a trim. No Roots had been playing in my head all day.  It's a great song that has absolutely nothing to do with hair.  I knew it had nothing to do with hair, but I also knew I would leave the hairdresser that afternoon with no roots so it just worked for me.  I was particularly excited because I was going out on a date with my pretty pretty hair.  I had recently started things back up with someone who I liked a great deal.  I had a gorgeous dress to go along with the date.  I had discovered a place in Benicia that is an actual speakeasy, password required.  What makes this speakeasy even more fun is that proper attire the key to getting in.  People rarely dress up nowadays and this place wanted to go back to that - no jeans, sneakers, etc.  You didn't have to dress in Prohibition period wear, but you had to bring it.  My date had no idea where we were going or what we were doing.  I knew he would be in work clothes and would be properly attired.

It was a great night.  It turned out the speakeasy was occupied by a private event, but they graciously allowed us to sit in the corner.  That sounds bad, but it really wasn't.  It's a tiny room with a bar on one side and tables on the other.  We were in the corner near the bar, just how we like it.  No one was paying any attention to us and we could be as handsy as we liked and sit practically in one another's laps.  We enjoyed some cocktails, shared some snacks, and flirted the evening away.  We discovered it was a birthday party for someone (they were all our parents' ages) and he bought a drink for the birthday boy.  Afterwards we parked the car for a bit and enjoyed the nice view and he dropped me back home, just like a proper gentleman.  I wonder if he knows this is our song?  I wonder if he would agree?

Pretty Girls by Iggy Azalea feat. Britney Spears

I was on my third work trip in the first 3 months back to work.  I was getting the hang of things and starting to see the benefits of work travel.  It was a quick 1-day in and out of Dallas to train a new client.  I had an afternoon flight and a cute outfit for traveling.  I was staying in my favorite Aloft in Plano and I was excited for the getaway.  I get to the Fastbreak counter for my rental car.  They hand me my agreement and I am off to look for my car.  I look at the number.  I look at the car.  I look at the number.  I look at the car.  It's a red Mustang convertible.  I asked them if they were serious and they said yes and would I like for them to show me how to put the top down?  Would I ever!  When I rolled into the parking lot at work the next day, you can bet that I caused quite a stir.  We took some pictures because we simply had to.  As I drove back to return the car the very next day, I made sure to put the top down.  When I rolled into the return section, I had Pretty Girls blaring with the top down and my blonde hair blowing in the wind.  The agent burst out laughing and asked if I had enjoyed myself.  What kind of question is that.  We're just so pretty. 

Centerfield by John Fogerty

Today's song isn't related to a specific memory, which is possibly cheating.  The premise of these stories after all is to document the soundtrack of my life. Let's go with it though, see where it takes me.  We might come upon a memory after all.

For the longest time I thought this song was about take a trip.  Put me in coach, as in the coach section of the plane or train.  I realize this is embarrassing because it means I missed the approximately one million references to baseball. I may also have been somehow mixing it up with another song, The Letter.  My baby's got a ticket on an aeroplane.  Ain't got time to take a fast train.  This makes sense, considering my overactive imagination as well as my propensity to overthink absolutely everything.  This hasn't changed to this day.  

In 8th grade I became obsessed with baseball.  My dad and I planned a trip to see all of the California ballparks in one week.  I decided I would visit all of the major league ballparks and I even planned out several more trips with my Dad to accomplish this. My dad and I only went to one more new park together, but I am now very very close, almost 30 years later.  I started a baseball scrapbook, wrote essays and speeches about baseball, and even planned out a room to display my baseball love.  When I realized that Centerfield was all about baseball and even mentioned Joe DiMaggio (my obsession), I was simultaneously mortified at my enormous mishear and in love with such a fun song.  It is everything I love about baseball - the crack of the bat, the moment in the sun, the fresh mown grass and how every ballpark is unique.  I'm ready to ... watch a ball game. Put me in coach!