It Was the Easiest Thing to Do

“And we never failed to fail, it was the easiest thing to do.”

I heard this song in a show last weekend and since then, I’ve been playing it and humming it and singing it all the damn time, which is starting to drive my husband a little bit insane.

I was trying to figure out why I’m obsessing. Obsessives are good at obsessing about why we’re obsessing.

Music is usually a good way to identify relevant moods and emotions and meaningful memories that go with it. I got nothin. I got a lot, but not a pinpoint on why this song, why now.

It’s Crosby, Stills, & Nash, which would have been played at my mother’s house, but not at my father’s house, so I wondered what on earth I was doing in 1982, on those weekends at my mother’s and I thought really, really hard and came up with a lot of nice memories, but it was real life, so like this:

I was into Strawberry Shortcake dolls who lived in a gazebo in Barbie’s back yard. I also had a Strawberry Shortcake birthday cake, but it was artificially colored like whoa, bringing about the first time I threw up alone. And strangely, after that, I threw up by myself until I was 29, until I had morning sickness and my mother-in-law came in to rub my back, and I realized it was weird when people stopped accompanying me to vomit and strange when people began to accompany me while I vomited. Life is like that. It doesn’t matter, cause vomit.

I was into the books of Beverly Cleary. My mother bought them all. I read them all.

I had the Crayola Color Caddy, a lazy susan contraption for containing all of one’s crayons, markers, and colored pencils, intended to facilitate a neat and careful transfer of one color for another, which, as it turns out, stifled my creativity, as I preferred to pull as I went into art chaos, and then to put it all away after. I am still like this. My creativity is in the mess. Can’t be messy before or after, but in the middle, I am painted, covered in flour, wearing string, sitting in the paper, whathaveyou.

I had these adorable corduroy overalls with a pink penguin turtleneck and when things don’t fit you anymore when you’re nine, it’s because after the turtleneck became a midriff, your mother said that was okay because the overalls covered your tummy, but you grew up even more and one day, the overalls sliced your whohah in half and you got the sad. The first of many bodily betrayals, amirite, ladies?

As for the song’s meaning, well, I don’t sail, fraid of sea monsters for one, get the vertigo, too pale to enjoy the sun…trade routes would be a big NOPE for me.
And it’s a ballad! I don’t really DO ballads. Romance is so ooey gooey and sticky and sappy. Crescendo into how romance is human fly paper and can trap a bitch for 20 years. I’m not complaining, just amazed.

Do you know The Mister and I used to sing the NightLight Love Songs of WENS 97.3 in the backseat of his parents’ car when we were teens? Ballads, y’all. Sad bastard music. Which contradicts his aversion to my obsession. You’d think he’d like it.

So I dunno. Let’s listen again though, cause it’s so damn good.

Has this happened to you? Did you figure out why? Any insights here? I have failed, which was the easiest thing to do.

Happy Friday Everyone! (My apologies for the earworm.)

About joey

Neurotic Bitch, Mother, Wife, Writer, Word Whore, Foodie and General Go-To-Girl
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61 Responses to It Was the Easiest Thing to Do

  1. I got lost, but still liked the post. Never was a CSN fan, but love Neil Young, does that count?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Joanne Sisco says:

    I don’t get it either but I’m a Crosby, Still, and Nash fan so any day that starts with their sweet harmonies is good for me ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Ally Bean says:

    I’d take it as a non-message from your subconscious, just showing you that it’s there doing its thing, keeping you emotionally balanced. No message, just a sweet polite “hi!”

    Liked by 2 people

  4. loisajay says:

    Love CSN….always had a crush on Stephen Stills. Great song, beautiful harmonies. That’s all I got.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Rivergirl says:

    As earworms go, thatโ€™s a damn fine choice…. no matter the reason.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Maggie says:

    Whoah โ€” thatโ€™s a lot of good insight. Vomiting is tough do do alone as a kid. My daughter always cried. She even called me in college any time she threw up. Maybe the song was just meant to revive all those memories. Or maybe this line is the message: โ€œYou will survive being bested, somebody fine will come alongโ€. Or maybe you posting this blog was for one of us to read and hear. Thank you universe!

    Liked by 3 people

    • joey says:

      That’s a great way to look at it, I’ll give credence to that connection. Thanks, Maggie ๐Ÿ™‚
      It’s sweet your daughter called you for comfort. My wee one used to wail when she threw up. It was … AN EVENT. I guess she’s grown out of wailing, but it’s also been years since she puked.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. orbthefirst says:

    For me, those repeated obsessive jaunts usually mean theres something fundamentally wrong with the way Im going about something, or that Im missing in whatever my focus is at the time. Normally, I require a vastly different opinion, or a different perspective on what it is. Funny how our shadow can point us out to things that need our attention…
    Anyway, great tune. Hope you are well. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    • joey says:

      I am well enough, thank you — and hope you are, too!
      I like that you gave me a new idea about what might be happening. There might be something to that — some avoidance of projects on my part.

      Liked by 1 person

  8. V.J. Knutson says:

    Enjoyed your journey down memory lane. I tend to label the songs that get stuck in my head my “theme song”.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Tara says:

    If you don’t think of it so literally, what comes up from the lyrics? It could be related to something else entirely than you might think if you do that. I, of course, host What I Woke Up Singing infrequently on my blog. So I enjoyed this post of yours. And I love that song.

    For me, this line always has me thinking about things: “The truth you might be runnin’ from is so small, but it’s as big as the promise, the promise of a coming day.”

    Liked by 4 people

  10. I got nothing, but it’s a great song! Nice trip down your memory lane. Oh, and yes, my body too has betrayed me many times when it comes to clothes!

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Benson says:

    Well you covered 9 year old girls in corduroy, Strawberry Shortcake dolls, Crayola crayons and vomiting. Alone and with someone. So it seem that the only connection to the song is the year 1982. Was that a spectacular year for you? Maybe you need to color in a Strawberry Shortcake coloring book. Maybe it will all be revealed then. Have a Happy Friday and a good weekend.

    Liked by 2 people

  12. Bill says:

    This was difficult. I even did the song twice and read the lyrics while listening. About a year ago Southern Cross grabbed me: I just kept listening until I didn’t as often. I did not relate to the video in the same way I did the song and lyrics.
    In September of 1982, we had just moved from Guam to Mather AFB, near Sacramento. Our daughter, Julie, was into much of that same stuff as you about then.
    I like to obsess. It is how I get shit done. But I can’t say that I am analytical about things. I am more of a gone with the flow type. I quote Judy Bloom on my FB page, “Some things just are.” I have unused art supplies all over. Not sure why I can’t just do it. Maybe later.
    Vomit and the process makes my wife vomit. Thus, I was the family attendee to the puke fests in our house, including hers (which are the worst).
    I did not fail. But I managed to discover alternative outcomes. Happy Friday, y’all. Have a great weekend (47 and rain here, and I love it!).

    Liked by 1 person

    • joey says:

      Ah. I am so glad I did not have to live in Guam.
      Well, maybe I just need this song a bit, then.
      It’s the first day we’ve run the furnace since May. It was 34 and dark at 7 when I went out to heat my car up. I was in my pajamas and barefoot — I hopped about. I guess after I left, when everyone else woke up, they decided it was cold enough for heat.
      My husband is the go-to-guy for puke and broken glass — not always possible to wait for him on either one, but if he’s here, I’m glad.
      You should do your art stuff. Make an appointment with yourself. I, for one, wanna see it.

      Liked by 1 person

  13. John Holton says:

    I’m not sure exactly what you’re asking, but I enjoyed the hell out of this.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. I get earworms all the time, especially from our praise team songs. Sometimes I even wake up at night to find them in my head and they can be there for much too long. While in France, the nostalgia channel played “Fame” and I heard that in my head almost every day after that. Sigh.

    Vomiting? Did that while in France, too, as I came down with some tummy bug for a couple days. I mostly remember that in grade school if someone vomited, it was hard for anyone nearby not to follow suit because of the smell.

    Cheers! ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Dan Antion says:

    “Obsessives are good at obsessing about why weโ€™re obsessing.” I love that.

    I think, in this case, it’s CSN-and-sometimes-Y. Their songs have a way of creeping back into your head. Maybe we didn’t protest enough. Maybe we didn’t care enough about something. Maybe we just didn’t realize how good they sounded when Neil Young was with them and what a selfish idiot he was for leaving, and how he sounds awful whiny on his own, even if his songs are good. They would have been better if the group was singing with him. Then we hear a song like this and realize they didn’t need him anyway. They had such good harmony. It’s just a good song, and we can hear it a lot without it wearing a hole in our brain.

    Liked by 1 person

  16. Anxious Mom says:

    No idea, but I got a chuckle out of your comment about being accompanied while vomiting.

    Liked by 1 person

  17. scr4pl80 says:

    Can’t help you with the why. I’ve been to Juneau, Alaska but it was before 1982. Love your description of the Crayola Color Caddy. I can totally understand how it would stifle creativity and I would have used it as you did, art chaos. Happy Friday to you.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. JT Twissel says:

    YouRrite! Rob Stewart’s song Maggie May always reminds me of vomiting. I absolutely cannot listen to it!

    Liked by 1 person

  19. Jewels says:

    Omygosh I love me some Crosby Stills and Nash! One ear worm I don’t mind getting. ๐Ÿ˜‰ Enjoyed hearing (reading) your childhood memories too! I heard this song by Yes playing while I was at the co-op last week and couldn’t get it out of my head for the life of me. I don’t know if the link will post, but it’s Roundabout by Yes.
    Enjoy! ๐Ÿ˜

    Liked by 1 person

    • Jewels says:

      It brought up a lot of nostalgia for me even though I would have been only 7 when that song came out – you’re a lot younger than me so I don’t know if you’ll get much out of it. ๐Ÿ™ƒ
      Hope you’re havin a great weekend Joey!

      Liked by 1 person

  20. markbialczak says:

    All I got is that sometimes the music sets the mood and memories in equal part to the lyrics, Joey?

    Liked by 1 person

  21. marianallen says:

    I get “The Isle of Capri” stuck in my head, which is weird, since I don’t know any of the lyrics except, “la-la-la-la the Isle of Capri”. I wrote a story with it in it, thinking that might get rid of it, but it still creeps up on my now and then. My mother brought the song up out of somewhere a few years ago, and it’s been haunting me since. Dunno why. Dunno.

    Liked by 1 person

  22. Laura says:

    I’ve learned to accept the wtf aspect of randomly attaching to a song. Matter of fact it makes me crazier to hound myself trying to recall the connection than it does just to hum the thing until it drops back off my radar…

    Liked by 1 person

  23. bikerchick57 says:

    That was a lot to take in. I can’t think of a song offhand that has made me obsess, but your story about vomiting made me wonder why, all of a sudden, TV shows thought it was cool to show people vomiting. I don’t like vomiting myself, so why do I want to watch it on TV…hmmm? Good thing there isn’t a song about it.

    Liked by 1 person

  24. All I could come up with, usually when I begin obsessing about a song, which drives me nuts, my mind is on hyper-drive. Has your mind been on hyper-drive? Um, sorry, but that’s about all I could come up with, Joey. As for the vomiting thing …. I’d prefer doing that alone. Yet …. how kind of someone to like you know, hold back your hair, rub your back, comfort you. Something like that. Happy Monday!!

    Liked by 1 person

  25. Amy says:

    I thought I commented, but I guess life must have interceded. I got nothing on the song, but my dad did play CSN. In 1982, my only sibling was born. And he automatically became my real-life baby doll. I had a Strawberry Shortcake doll, but not a cake. However, I did throw up after drinking red Kool-Aid and never drank a red one again.

    Liked by 2 people

  26. Hi Joey. I love Crosby Stills and Nash and sometimes Y. I’m not quite sure I understand all of your post, but I can say that about everything.

    Liked by 1 person

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