'Retto Ruminations
By: Amy Sciarretto
Last updated July 8th , 2010

I had another long ass, cross-country flight this week. I used to travel to LA every six weeks - and I sorta still do - when I was in a nearly three-year, long distance relationship. I love to travel. I love the rituals associated with it, like filling up the FAA-approved toiletries bottles; counting out panties, shirts, wife beaters, socks and pants for each day I am there; making sure I have all my necessities like my glasses, my calendar, my journal, which I don't keep packed at all times like I do with a flat iron, blow dryer and some toiletries that only come with me when I travel; and cutting the subscription labels off the magazines I take with me to read on the plane. I pretty much bring so many mags with me, plus a book, and I am often completely busy during the entire flight, coupled with working on my laptop.

But it is the only time I am cut off from the world, digitally and electronically speaking. No email. No texts. No voicemails. And while I like that freedom, I'd prefer to be accessible, even at 32,000 feet, since I despise that flood of emails, texts, BBMS and voice mails that come in once I hit the on button when we hit the tarmac. It's a deluge - there is no better word to describe it. 

I decided, on the flight out on Wednesday, not to watch any of the movies offered by Continental, my carrier of choice. I decided to just listen to music on my iPod. I kept going back to Kelly Clarkson's "Since You Been Gone," because so many of my friends and friends who are musicians talk about how that is quite possibly a perfect pop song. It has the hook, the singable chorus, the easily relatable lyrics and of course, a guitar edge. It's a universal subject, a kiss off to some jackass that had the audacity to break your heart and then helped you realize what a jackass he was in the post-break up weeks and months. And while I am proud to proclaim that I have never watched a single episode of American Idol, and probably never will, I realize why Clarkson was the first American Idol, since the girl can sing. While that song was penned for her by songwriters who job it is to craft a pop song, not to sing it, Clarkson is the engine making that song go. It's her voice, her attitude, her sass and her pipes that make that power that song. Who doesn't hear that song - be it on the radio or on your own damn iPod - and feel immediately moved to shake your ass, throw your hands in the air and sing at the top of your lungs, like no one is watching? It feels great and it makes me want to just shake it out.

Another song that absolutely does it for me, and one that I kept hitting repeat on on my iPod, is Michael Buble's "Haven't Met You Yet." I am a sucker for a crooner; on Sunday mornings, I alternate between cranking Elvis Presley and of course, Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin, as it is an Italian household, while I give my dog his morning bath, where I brush his teeth, wipe his face, his wrinkles (he is a beautiful Bulldog), his ears, his eyes and brush his coat and freshen him with Pet Smart's version of doggie Febreeze. I blast the music and sing to him, and dance around him while we do our morning clean up ritual. Buble's voice is the best thing I've heard in years and while the song is another positive spin on searching for the "one" for you, the way Buble sings makes me believe, for one iota, that it might be possible. That's how convincing he is. He is the new Neil Diamond for me - and I've seen Neil like five times and love every second of Neil's shows. I will sell an ovary for a ticket to see Buble when he hits the East Coast again. I have such a non-sexual, totally musical crush on him. I actually listen to his stuff on my while I swiffer the floors of my condo, dancing and singing in circles, because his songs feel so good and fill me a sense of hope. Of course, I usually listen to Pantera right after. It's a balance that I need to strike and is crucial to achieve. But nothing gets me going better than Michael Buble followed by Pantera. And as I discussed with a band two weeks ago, Pantera's "Walk" is the best example of having melody with your heaviness and it's so true. You can be heavy and melodic without having to resort to using a melodic part just to show how heavy and hard you are or to give the listener or yourself a respite from the brain-smashing heaviness. 

I am a sucker for melody, and I love it when I am on a plane or sweeping the floors of my house or when I am spending a low key (I would not say lazy, since we are performing a ritual and getting something necessary done, so it's productive) Sunday morning with my puppy. 

I think I am going to add Kelly Clarkson's "Since You Been Gone" to the rotation for next week's ritual. So we have the King, Ol Blue Eyes, a neo-crooner and a pop starlet all being played along with one of the best groove metal bands ever. I think that makes for a soundtrack to my life, one that fills my ears and that can make the mundane into something special. Yeah, that's it. The soundtrack to wiping my dog's facial folds and spot cleaning my house become something fun and special when I crank up the tunes. A long flight can be more tolerable with a bunch of magazines and a good book, but really makes the time fly, no pun intended, is good pop songs on the iPod.

Try it sometime. Next time you want to do something rote or routine, spice it up with a little music. I <3 Buble, for sure. Sorry, I text that to my friends all the time, so I have to share it with my readers, too. ~ Amy Sciarretto

[Tags] Metal, Rock

Recent Related Articles