April 27, 2006
Love to love you, baby.
Ya'll know how sometimes you just wake up grumpy, ready to pitch a hissy at the drop of a hat? Nothing sits right with you. Maybe because you haven't gotten enough sleep. Or maybe because it's gloomy outside, and last night it rained all soft and pitter-pat on the patio all night, and you stayed up listening to soft hits and drinking wine and thinking everyone in the world is getting some lovin' except you.
For those of you not uncool enough to know what "soft hits" are, allow me to explain. Soft Hits is a category that encompasses basically every crap love song which makes you want to retch and/or bang your head upon something very hard and durable. That is, unless you're half drunk and suffering a broken heart, in which case some part of your subconscious takes over and you suddenly know all the words to said crap song by either Elton John or Celine Dion, and your friends start looking at you like you've grown a set of antennae or something. Ya'll know. Don't pretend like you don't.
The soft hits station in L.A. has call letters (KOST) that sound like the word "coast" so they have these witty ways of slipping that into every station break, "It's 65 degrees tonight on the coast." Or "Call and make your love request on the coast line."
Anyway, after dark the radio station turns into a sapfest known as "Love Songs On the Coast" where they play all the downers and there are requests and dedications and people call in begging so-and-so to take them back. The thing is, the DJ will periodically read aloud eloquent letters all about lost love or devotion allegedly written by some sappy Coast listener. I say "allegedly" written by a Coast listener. I think it's some intern's job at the radio station to make those letters up, because the average call-in dedication sounds something like this:
Coast DJ (in soft silky smooth voice): Thanks for calling the Coast Line. Who am I coasting with tonight?
Caller: Uh, this is Ramon.
DJ: Hello Ramon, and where are you coasting tonight?
Caller: Um, West Covina.
DJ: And what special request or dedication would you like to send out on the coast tonight, Ramon?
Caller: Um, ya, I just wanna say whut up to my gurl Kristina.
DJ: And what song would you like to request tonight on the coast?
Caller: Uh, ya, she, uh, she likes that song the one, where she ain't gonna never Be Without You Baby.
DJ: Well, Ramon, I hope Kristina knows just how much you love her, love is a precious gift.
See what I mean? And I can listen to this stuff for hours, because I am a glutton for punishment, and because when it rains you secretly suspect everyone else in the world has the curtains drawn and has flung off their clothes and is getting morally compromised. And you are drinking seven-tenths of a bottle of cab and falling asleep with a cat on your head.
Posted by laurie at April 27, 2006 9:41 AM