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Music Challenge: Day 6

Day 6: a song that reminds you of somewhere

Well, if by somewhere I can make it an era in my life, then lets have at it. I started to define this time as Jr. High School but I would be remiss if I didn’t include the 6th grade, which was still elementary for those of us who didn’t go to that silliness called middle school.

I am watching the video and typing this at the same time & I have to say that I’m almost embarrassed to even share this with you. What saves me is that I was not alone with what I’m about to reveal. Now, these jheri curl juice drippin’ bammas, Ready For the World were BY NO MEANS attractive, but you couldn’t tell me nothin’ ‘bout the whispery lustful sound of the lead’s voice. I let this tape rock til the tape popped & then replaced it. & I STILL have it. Judge me not.

Ready For the World was the soundtrack of my life from ’85 to ’88. In the 6th grade when we did Jump Rope For Heart & got to jump rope all night long at school…I played Ready For the World. Actually, damn near all the music that got played that wasn’t the radio was brought from my house. I guess I’ve ALWAYS been a music junkie. We ran this tape over…& over…& over & jumped our hearts out singing along & practicing our pelvic thrusts in a school function chaperoned in a cafeteria appropriate type manner (aka—in the cut out of the sight of the adults).

When I got to Jr. High, I met boys who seemed to me the 7th grade version of these dudes who were master & commander of all my fantasies with boys. Down to the white suits with floor length dusters. Mind you, I can’t remember what occasion at 12 & 13 years old even required a white suit with a floor length duster but…yeah. I wanna say this dude’s name so bad cuz it might actually send summa’y’all to check out his music but I don’t have his permission. Anyway, OJ—as he shall be referred to here, had me all crushed out on him enough to forgive him his activated hair. I tremble with the very memory of liking anyone who participated in that moisturized madness but it’s a sign of the times. OJ could do no wrong in my eyes, despite how much he actually did. It wasn’t cool to like the flat-chested chick with the natural hair & the long African name. So he chased chicks with “regulah” names by day & rapped me up by phone at night, enjoying my conversation. I’ve already spoken of this madness before, so I won’t go all into that fiasco again. Needless to say, we’re all grown now & he’s busy having Jenny Jones moments (remember that ridiculous show?) where he apologizes to me from time to time on Facebook for not being mature enough to ride hard for the dime he knew I was. Cuz Baby…look at me now.

Uhmmmm, I think I’ve gotten away from the soundtrack. Anywho, OJ aside, hot to trot was the underlying theme of my tween to teenage world & I was all caught up in the rapture of boys who warmed empty promises over low embers with me on the phone at night. & don’t let 1 whisper in my ear. GOOD LAWDT!! Thank goodness Da Mudda really did put the fear of Mamas in me or I mighta been 1’a those chicks lovingly referred to as “out there bad.”

You know what? I ain’t gon’ ‘barrass myself no mo’ with this confessional of a teenage allaway turnt up on love & romance. I’on’t need to keep thinking I hear soft chuckles & have arced eyebrows thrown at me like boomerangs. I’m good. So, at my expense, please take a moment to enjoy 1 of the mainstays in my youth from a group who managed to come back around & shoot me with another arrow when they did Sweet November (which I couldn’t find for you) that reminds me of a skate party I went to when I was 14. Have at it.

Watch me groove.

1 comment:

  1. imagine washing THOSE collars. but yeah, that was the groove. it seems Prince had a lot of influence in the midwest. and what kind of accent was dude trying to pull off (3:11)?