Singers, Songs, Sandwiches, and Wrestling Bears
And my first custom playlist for Substack readers!
I wanted this to be a lighthearted post after I went on my nerdy soapbox rants about unions and elitism on Wednesday, but then Sinead O’Connor died, and ugh, it’s tough to be lighthearted after that. O’Connor meant a lot of things to a lot of people and deserves all the praise and acknowledgment that her death is bringing her, albeit too late. To me, she was one of the first female vocalists I loved who wasn’t a pop star - who was, in fact, a lapsed Catholic, very pissed off, very feminist, very big-hearted woman who sang about messy things like heartbreak and the troubles. I listened to her last night for the first time in years and cried and cried and cried. The heartbreak she must have been suffering this year exceeds anything I’ve ever known (her son died by suicide last year) but her music is the kind of art that captures that heartbreak and suffering and gives it voice. Rest in Power Sinead.
Ironically, another female vocalist from my formative years is also in the news, and thankfully, it’s not because she’s passed away. Tracey Chapman’s song Fast Car has reached the top of the Country charts, thanks to Luke Combs’s cover of the song. There is some controversy about the cover given that a white dude is making bank off a queer Black woman’s art. I hope Chapman is making money too. The video for Fast Car is one of the few things I remember about the summer of 1988. I spent two full weeks arguing with my crush about whether Chapman was a man or a woman and whether it mattered to the song. God, some of our crushes were dumb back then.
The newsletter Books That Made Us has me thinking about, well, the books that have been most formative to me. I’m not ready to share my list but O’Connor’s passing, along with Chapman’s (hopefully) renewed success, has me thinking about the Songs That Made Me. Nothing Compares to U is on that list; so is Fast Car.
The college DJ in me is never far from the surface so I made a playlist. It’s called the Songs That Made Us because some of these songs were treasured even more by the people in my life at the time. Like The Tide is High was my younger sister’s favorite song when it came out. I’m sure we actually fought about who liked it more back then, but she almost certainly did. The songs are as close to chronological as I can get them without looking up the release dates (i.e. it’s all coming from my brain). I know that many of them were the most commercially successful songs those artists put out but in my defense, the only media I consumed for the first fifteen years of my life was Top 40 radio and Judy Blume books. I am going to keep adding to this list and I hope you’ll let me know what songs made you. You can find me and my other playlists on Spotify by searching for Andrea Laiacona Dooley. My playlist Lapsed Catholic Hymnal scratches a certain itch.
Just a quick Italian sub review
I was in Safeway today getting birthday cards and I was struck with profound enough hunger to try an Italian sub at their deli counter. The Italian sub on the Safeway deli menu is not the Italian sub of my definition but is a melange of Italian-ish ingredients: ham, salami, mozzarella, marinated artichokes, pepperoncini, and mayo. While I love a mozzarella, tomato, and marinated artichokes sub, this isn’t the combo I was looking for today. Instead, I ordered a make-your-own from a woman whose name badge said, “Grandma Kim.” I gave her my ingredients (several times): ham, salami, provolone, lettuce, tomato, onion.
“Mayo or mustard?” she asked.
“Neither,” I answered. Before I could add, “I’d like the Italian dressing,” Grandma Kim made the deepest and longest stink face I’ve seen in a long time. She visibly recoiled.
“No mayo? No mustard?” She shook her head in sorrow. She looked only mildly relieved when I ordered the dressing. As punishment, she didn’t shake the dressing bottle, so it was just oil and dry basil that came out on my bread.
When I got home, I added some red wine vinegar and ate the whole sandwich. It was fine, in that I was no longer hungry after I ate it.
Here are some other Italian sub reviews: ONE TWO
Alabama prohibits freedom
Bear wrestling was outlawed in Alabama in 1996. It’s also illegal to sell animals after sunset. The reason I came across this information is that the guy who is making some cushions for me has the email address joegrizzzz at something dot com and has photos in his office that show a man who resembles him wrestling a bear. And also the man’s wife mentioned that he wrestled a bear. But it’s not on the internet so I don’t know what to believe. Anyway, he definitely didn’t wrestle a bear in Alabama after 1996.
Finally . . .
I am traveling next week, which means I’ll either have plenty of time to write or no time at all. I can’t tell yet. If I don’t, fear not, I’ll be home in a saint’s whisper.
Sinead’s passing is so tragic but I love it when so many stories about how an artist touched so many lives come to light. It’s just a shame it often happens after they’ve passed and so can no longer see it. Russell Crowe wrote the sweetest thread about her on twitter yesterday.
I’m going to listen to your playlist while I go about my morning admin today
A saint’s whisper?