Planned to use my day off before my work-jammed holiday weekend to see No Country For Old Men, finally playing here in Des Moines. Unfortunately, snow blanketed the area, much to the apparent surprise of local weather prognosticators, and while it wasn't a storm by any means, road crews were caught unawares and the streets remained untreated and slick, making a trip out to suburbland to hole up in darkness for two hours a dicey proposition.
So instead I stayed home and watched old Sgt. Bilko episodes, which come to think of it is probably better than anything else I could have done. Before that, though, I wound up yet again at my neighborhood Chinese restaurant--I seem to have a regular seat--and enjoyed my usual meal.
This time, however, I was struck by the odd mix of music playing in the background. Usually this place features the standard mix of generic oldies and gen pop-friendly contemporary hits. But it seemed to be weepy balladeer day--two Gene Pitney songs (Only Love Can Break A Heart and Town Without Pity), plus Without You (Mariah Carey's version, unfortunately, but still...) and Rufus Wainwright's Barcelona.
(That last one makes me wonder how outre a song can be and still get played in bland corporate settings. Once as I grocery shopped, in between the standard Hall & Oates and Billy Joel tunes, I heard a familiar synth riff. It couldn't be, I thought, but soon Alan Vega's mumbling, keening vocals kicked in--Suicide's Cheree as background music for buying milk! That's just...wrong.)
I ate more quickly than usual, afraid the music was going to become too depressing, even for me. What if they started playing Lost In The Stars, or some Nick Cave or Jim Carroll. I like pineapple chicken as much as anyone, but not when its served with a side of emotional arsenic.
