Louis and I are loading my iPod, again.
Which means I must listen to the THOUSANDS of songs he has loaded onto his iTunes account.
Me, the uneducated, unadventurous nincompoop with pedestrian taste for pop and melody. He prefers moody singer-songwriters and clashy, noisy, non-melodic music. To me it is trash, to him it is art. My one question at the end of this lovely afternoon: just how much Van Morrison is required? :)
Why are we loading my iPod? Because a couple of weeks back there was some chatter about '70s music to be played at the Spring Fling in Texas the first weekend in May. I mentioned that Louis is the king of too much music and we have loads of stuff from the '70s. Now, I thought all this stuff was already loaded onto my iPod. Wrong. So, I started my day, happy to listen to my Imogen Heap, Natasha Beddingfield and Feist. Singer songwriters who can write music, lyrics AND sing!
I'm ending my day with a more rounded appreciation for the fact my husband can play a mean air guitar (air drums and air piano, too) and we've loaded plenty of music I "must have" to balance my need for pop and fluff!
Oh, we've just finished 1973. I may not survive to the '80s.
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