Author Archives: alliooop


Talking to Chuck about my new running shoes…

Me:  I like them… but they are purple.  Purple is my least favorite color.

Chuck:  Then why’d you buy them?

Me:   Because they were the only non-boring white shoes.

Chuck:  It sounds like white is your least favorite color.



Lone Bellow (and sleep-shopping is underrated)

Sometime last week I looked into my ‘Recently Purchased’ folder on iTunes, to find an album I had never heard of and didn’t remember buying (…another sleep-shopping incident?):  The Lone Bellow debut, self-titled album:

Lone Bellow

I’m sure one of you lovelies recommended this band to me, but I don’t remember who.  Whoever you are – thank you.  Over the past week, it has become my favorite album of the summer.  It’s just the right mix of folk revival, country and soul. Bliss. Lead vocalist sounds a tad like Glen Hansard at times, which is awesome.   If you read the lead singer and song writer’s story of how he came into music, it will make you appreciate it all that much more.

This song is my favorite: You Never Need Nobody

This one is good, too:  Bleeding Out

And the lyrics of this song remind me of my one and only:  Green Eyes and a Heart of Gold


I’ve been in love with love.

Here’s a song for more mid-week toe-tapping – which, let’s be honest, you’ve been doing a lot of as you count down the minutes before the 4th of July holiday.  Even though this song will be known as 2013’s Hipster Summer Anthem… I’m in love with it.  It has simple, happy lyrics and an infectious melody.  Also, I’m a sucker for one-shot music videos a la Feist’s 1, 2, 3, 4  and OK Go’s This Too Shall Pass.

Hope you enjoy.  And if you like it, I promise not to call you a hipster.  At least not to your face.

San Fransisco, by The Mowgils

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Singing La La La

This song put me in a great mood this morning (quite a feat, while stuck in traffic).  I dare you to watch this video and not tap your foot and sing along.  Happy Wednesday.

La la la, singing la la la.  I’m so happy I’m singing la la la… 

La La Blues, by Pokey LaFarge

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Just the way you are.

I was in line at a clothing store this afternoon, waiting patiently to make my return.  In front of me was an adorable little girl, waiting for her mom to make her purchase.  The little girl was probably about 8 years old, and had far more fashion sense then I’ve ever had.   Skinny jeans, chambray shirt, wingtip oxfords, and the perfect high-top bun.

The little 8 going on 25 year old diva was passing the time by oogling the racks of jewelry near the checkout, pausing occasionally to sing along to a song on the radio.

I don’t have kids.  I’m not even married, so kids and/or how kid-appropriate something is rarely enters my psyche.  But as I watched this little girl, singing along to the Top 40s radio station, I realized how odd it is to have an innocent little human not only dressed like a 20-something, but also singing lyrics about lost love, drinking in clubs, and one-night stands.   It was one of those scary moments that made me terrified to have children.

But then, a Bruno Mars song came on:  Just the way you are…


The little girl’s eyes lit up when this song started, and she sang along louder and with more energy than all of the other songs. She owned the lyrics:

When I see your face
There’s not a thing that I would change
‘Cause you’re amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile
The whole world stops and stares for a while
‘Cause girl you’re amazing
Just the way you are

Cool huh?  What great words for a little girl (or any girl) to hear, to sing, and to own.

You are amazing just the way you are.

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Mr. Prima, please don’t squeeze the banana.

While at the grocery store, deciding which bunch of bananas to buy… an elderly man walked up behind me, singing, “Please don’t squeeze the banana, please don’t squeeze the banana! If you squeeze, officer please, squeeze the coconut!”

I was only slightly less concerned after I googled it…

My father’s daughter

I love music (music lover, that’s a hat to wear proudly).  I like to think that I inherited my impeccable taste in music from both my mother and my father… though, throughout my twenties, my father and I forged a special bond around music.

Sometimes things get a little weird between fathers and daughters when daughters go to college–the once innocent little girl gets a drinking ticket her freshman year (officer, it wasn’t my fault…) or moves in with her boyfriend in a far away city.  When it got difficult to talk about the ways our relationship was changing, we latched onto our mutual appreciation of music.  Not just any music– but good music.  He and I generally have the same musical taste, and are both drawn to musicians that pair interesting composition with poignant, precise prose.  Example A: Please Come Home, by SHEL  (a video my dad shared with me, only a few hours ago).  Enjoy!

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