When I was at Zarah's last week-end (why have I not written about my fabulous Week-end at Zarah's one day this week instead of the endless, grating whinge-fest? Why, I don't know, it's a perfectly valid question) we enjoyed a wide variety of Songza playlists while cooking, eating, cleaning up the kitchen or getting ready to go out. Okay, it's probably slightly inaccurate to say we enjoyed a WIDE variety of playlists. We figured out in short order that if we were presented with any option containing the word "Mom", (Mom-friendly pop hits! Classic hits for Moms! Mom's hanging-out music!) we should just take it. Apparently, as far as Songza goes, we are eminently predictable and mainstream and Mommish.
We picked something with a Joni Mitchell theme at one point, and this song came on. Without thinking, I said "I love this song." Which I do. But I didn't know it was a James Taylor song. I heard it in my head sung by a sweet, high female voice - no idea whose. Later that night in bed, I tried for an hour to find that version on iTunes, fruitlessly, and now I have three or four versions of it and they're all nice, but none is exactly RIGHT, and it's vexatious.
Then I remembered this guy in university telling me that Taylor had written this song after some friends of his had bought his wife a plane ticket to see one of his concerts and the plane had crashed and she had DIED. I mean, Jesus, right? And, well, the lyrics: "Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone/ Susanne, the plans they made put an end to you", and "Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground". Plus, I was nineteen and highly credulous.
Thing is, it's a load of crap. A fairly widely-disseminated load of crap, because it's mentioned on Wikipedia. The actual story, that a friend had committed suicide but the news was initially kept from Taylor, is arguably equally as sad, if less Hollywood. The other night when I mentioned the first anecdote at a dinner party, my friend's husband immediately said "that has 'urban legend' written all over it". But like I said, young, unskeptical, and there was no internet back then. And the thing is, I don't even know if the guy who told it to me actually thought it was true or if it was a line (he did kind of segue into "oh, you look so sad, let me hug you after I remove these incredibly heavy and cumbersome pants").
I'd like to think I've become a bit more discerning in the intervening years. I hardly ever give money away to strangers with sob stories any more. Eve still gets me every April Fool's Day, though. I guess that's okay.
Now I'm going to see if there's a playlist for Moms Doing an Excel Assignment, or Music to Accompany Your Laptop Flying Through the Air.