Most of us look forward to Fridays. It signals the end of another busy workweek and we are ready to embrace the weekend.
I can’t wait for that day to roll around, but for a reason some may find odd.
Friday is the day I spend the afternoon working in our Winsted office, and this means I get to drive out of Delano, by myself, in the family van.
Usually, I make short trips around Delano, making it impossible to hear a full song on the radio or my children delegate what songs I can listen to.
Each of them has entirely different tastes in music. My oldest prefers rock and sometimes hip-hop, the latter of which I find absolutely annoying.
Past and present American Idol contestants are my middle child’s favorites.
The youngest is head-over-heels for the girly pop rock of Hannah Montana, or the goofy lyrics of the Naked Brothers Band. (Who, by the way, came up with that name for a children’s group and why?)
Since I tend to be all over the dial with my choice in artists, anyone traveling with me is quickly irritated by constant station-changing.
However, with kids in tow I try to take turns and be fair with music selections.
“It’s my turn!” my children, who do keep track, of course, will say.
This is why I look forward to Fridays, because it is mom’s turn.
Taking Wright County Road 30 and driving to Winsted, and then back to Delano, gives me the opportunity to have much needed alone time with songs I enjoy.
Sometimes the radio keeps me company, and other times it’s a CD. (I have managed to find most of my favorites on CD and have finally thrown away the cassette tapes).
One day I couldn’t help laugh when I chose an old Motley Crue album as my Friday companion. I can still picture the MTV videos that went with those songs from the 1980s.
It made me wonder if someday my grandchildren will be frightened when their grandma is rocking out to “Live Wire” by a band called Motley Crue.
Will anyone, twenty years from now, know Bret Michaels, the band Poison, or why this old lady knows the lyrics to their song “Look What the Cat Dragged In?”
One time, I told my children that when I was around 12 years old, I wanted to be Madonna or Paula Abdul and they responded with, “But why they are old!”
Will my grandbabies be confused when they look at dear old granny’s music collection and find artists such as Billy Idol, Bon Jovi, and Duran Duran?
I suppose it will seem strange, but it doesn’t surprise me when I find my dad in his workshop singing along with The Beatles, ABBA or Queen.
My mom even likes a song by ACDC, and I think that’s pretty cool, though not a typical grandma choice.
Thankfully, they passed on their love for music to me because it can help you through a bad day and put you in a good mood.
But, I’m sure one day when we ladies from the eighties are old, wrinkled, and gray, more than one of us will hear, “Grandma, I don’t get it. Where did these Men at Work guys really work?”
Or “Wait a minute, they keep saying ‘I Ran’ but wouldn’t a Flock of Seagulls fly?”
And “So, what city did these Starship people actually build?”