It's a Sweet, Sweet Dream

"Looking for Space," John Denver

I like to pride myself on the fact I listen to a wide variety of music. I know my life would be less full without the array of selections on my iPod, and the songs and sounds I desire depend on my mood and my day. Sometimes I'm eager for country, and I'll pretend I know how to line dance all around the living room. Other times I can play Sublime's 40 oz. to Freedom CD, on repeat, for an entire afternoon ("Don't Push" is my current ringtone). When I'm in a Michael Jackson frame of mind, as I was for approximately a month after I saw This is It, "Man in the Mirror" becomes my mantra, and I'll force people my mom to learn the "Beat It" dance with me (thanks, YouTube). Every so often, I'll fall prey to the magic of Disney, and I'm forever enraptured by Michael Bolton's rendition of "I Can Go the Distance" and Peabo Bryson's "A Whole New World." As much as he might kill me for admitting it, some days Tim and I love to BLAST Britney, Kelly, Pink, and Lady Gaga girl-power songs, preferably with the windows up, in the car. And recently, I've become re-obsessed with Unwritten Law, and I've downloaded, repeated, and memorized anything Scott Russo and his ever-changing band mates can give me; acoustic, live, or otherwise. Tonight, however, is a John Denver night.

Over Thanksgiving, I started reading John Steinbeck's East of Eden, since I'm teaching it for the first time next semester. It's brilliant, with characters so palpable and settings so vibrant it's as though I know these scenes actually exist somewhere. The characters are individuals I want to meet. Yell at. Cry for. Befriend. Due to a variety of obligations, commitments, stresses, and activities (such as, uh, Wii Tournament 2010 vs. Chip and Amanda), I haven't been able to read it for a few weeks. I picked it back up this weekend, and I have 50 more pages to go. Tim left a few hours ago to spend the night with my brother and Dad at the Garner Valley ranch, so it's just me and Bailey tonight. And I couldn't be happier about the evening I have in front of me: red wine in hand, I'm perfectly content to let Steinbeck's prose and Denver's country roads take me home...