When I started working for the government (i.e. The Man) five years ago, I was delighted to learn that employees were allowed to listen to music at their desks. The temp job I held for two years before this did not permit such distractions, even though I spent my days filing, stuffing envelopes, and/or staring forlornly at the carpeted walls of my cubicle praying for the sweet release of death. Music could've really come in handy, you know; chase the suicidal thoughts away or whatever. But none of that mattered anymore. I was no longer a temp. I was a respectable, gainfully employed member of society now and respectable, gainfully employed members of society get to listen to music while they work.
So, I purchased a cheap radio/CD player from Wal-mart. It proved itself a hunk of shit right out of the box, but it provided the sweet tune-age my brain required to maintain it's sanity, so I was delighted. Then, when I got tired of listening to the same Asobi Seksu album over and over (I listened to Citrus five times in a row one day--that's not a bad thing, it's a great record), I had the radio option (by this time I had moved up to the 8th floor and had a window in my office). I listened to NPR almost exclusively and for awhile it was a good fun time. Soon, however, the radio/CD player's inherent shittiness became too much to bear, plus, I had an iPod now and I mostly listened to podcasts anyway, so I donated the radio to my newborn daughter. "Here's a piece of garbage CD player with a short in it somewhere," I said, dropping it off unceremoniously in Quinn's bedroom. "Enjoy yourself."
What does any of this have to do with Gary Wright's "Dream Weaver." I'm gettin' to it! Patience!
When Quinn turned about eight months or so, me and my wife decided to turn the guest room into a guest-room-slash-play-room thing. We moved Quinn's toy box, her various puppets, and her Little People Little Talker's Zoo into the room. We also moved the crappy radio/CD player. The thing will hardly play a CD any more--the conditions have to be just right--so we turned to the radio for our musical needs, settling on 96.1, Raleigh's "hybrid" classic rock station.
Hybrid, you ask. Yes. For every expected classic rock band they play (Led Zeppelin, ACDC, Steve Miller Band), they'll play something from the 90's (Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Red Hot Chili Peppers, the song "Linger" by the Cranberries). As far as radio stations go, it's pretty great. For better or worse, there are no DJ's, so we get a pretty solid, uninterrupted block of rock every night during playtime. The classic rock appeals to my wife, while the 90's alternative satisfies my listening needs. I like some of the classic stuff too. I do mistake every other song for "Jessie's Girl," but most people do that, right?
(A note on that "Jessie's Girl" thing: Until this morning, when I was telling my wife about my plans to write the very piece you are now reading, Jen was under the impression that my whole "this is 'Jessie's Girl,' right?" thing was a joke. It, sadly, is not.)
We've been listening to 96.1 in the playroom for a long time now and I've noticed something: They never actually play 'Jessie's Girl."
Also, they never play Gary Wright's "Dream Weaver." I've had limited exposure to classic rock radio, but there was a station I would sometimes listen to in Charlotte that presented itself as a classic rock station, and they played "Dream Weaver" all the time. What gives, 96.1? You'll play every single ZZ Top ever released and Tesla's "Love Song" 50-times a day, but no "Dream Weaver?"
I like "Dream Weaver." It's weird and nice. And it reminds me of Wayne's World. I liked Wayne's World.
I've been threatening to call 96.1 and request "Dream Weaver" for, like, three weeks now. I think I'm going to do it. Maybe they can play it between "Thunderstruck" and "La Grange" one day. Dammit, I hate "La Grange." But that's for an entirely different feature. I'll let you know what happens with this whole "Dream Weaver" situation.
NEXT TIME: GEP calls out 96.1 FM for never paying Europe's "The Final Countdown."