See? I am playing catch-up. And, because I can't get these songs out of my head, and because Another Gutsy Mom recently posted about music, it reminded me I've been meaning to mention these.
Remember the gigantic package of presents my friends Covie and Matt sent to me and Jillsie to help us get through the RLBT? Well, several of them have been gifts of music. And because Covie and Matt have impecable taste in music, you know the CD's they picked are bound to become "Music of the Month-ers." So here's a combo ticket. The first CD I opened, back in September, was this one:
Putumayo Presents Paris has the coolest music on it, including a number by Carla Bruni, France's new first lady. Her voice is quite amazing, and I just want to say for the record that I thought so before she even started dating President Sarkozy. My favorite part about this CD is that it basically functions as a soundtrack to the silliness of my life. You know how during the opening credits for Sex & the City Carrie gets mud splashed all over her pretty ballerina-esque outfit but it somehow seems funny and okay and not tragic because there is plucky music going on in the background? That is how Putumayo Presents Paris functions. Playing it while running errands is a must.
For example, while shopping at the American grocery store recently, I attempted to use the self-checkout lane because Jillsie was having a meltdown and I needed to get her in the car and home for a nap ASAP. However, the woman who oversees the self-checkout lane would not let us use it because we had about 20 items, and there was a 15 item limit. Never mind that there was no one else in line for self-checkout. I looked at her and pleaded "Really? Please?" glancing over at the regular checkout lines which resembled a Disney ride line. Nope. No go. Policy over common sense, at all costs. She used the phrase "I'm going to have to ask you..." which I despise because it disavows the speaker of any personal responsibility. It also makes me want to retort: "Okay, if you are going to have to, why don't you just go ahead and ask instead of announcing that you're about to ask." But anyway. I reversed my cart and got in the regular checkout line behind everyone else (each of whom had at least 50 items). The entire time I waited in line, not one person went to the self checkout. There were FOUR EMPTY SELF-CHECKOUT THINGIES the entire time I waited in line. And everyone had to listen to Jillsie scream. And I kept looking over to the Self-Checkout Policewoman, and she refused to look my direction, like the gal at the gate in the Ben Stiller movie, when he is trying to get on the plane but his row hasn't been called yet so the gal won't let him on, even though he is the only one there. I like to think that the Self-Checkout Policewoman simply wouldn't look at me because she knew she was being ridiculous.
Anyway, to end an unnecessarily long story, by the time I got to the car Jillsie and I were both frazzled and ready to go home, and it would've been a perfect time to have one of those secret mini-cries that we Gutsy Moms sometimes have in our cars but never admit to having. But nope. On came Thomas Fersen with "Au Cafe de la Paix" and all was well. I laughed about it right away. Isn't music amazing?
The next CD I opened from Covie & Matt, in November, was Firecracker by The Wailin' Jennys. Have you heard them? Three women. Beautiful harmony.
I have really come to love every track on this CD, but I especially adore "Glory Road" and "Begin," which is so gorgeous. My favorite self-deprecating lyric: "Me, with a head full of words, and not one useful expression. Hey....... let go." You have to hear it to get it, I suppose. These songs are the perfect antidote to one too many Raffi CD's. Jillsie tolerates the songs fairly well and sometimes tries to do some "pretty" singing. (Usually, however, whenever she hears music of any kind, she just says "Cows!" which is an instruction to Mommy to put on her latest favorite CD which begins with a song by that name.)
So there you have it, two CD's with great sounds and serious antidotal qualities. For whatever ails ya.