Fifty for Fifi

Ok so obviously I bit off more than I can chew. I was able to sustain a post a night for some time, but it’s not something I’ve ever been able to do.

That being said, the project continues, just not leading up to the 50th song happening on Fi’s birthday in a couple of days. That ship has clearly sailed because no I am not writing another 31 posts – even of the most phone-it-in variety before next Saturday.

The project has also widened. We’ve got this domain for a year, so after I’ve given Fi my choice of 50 (plus extras) songs I’ll hand over the controls and she’ll do her countdown from 1975 to today. I’m interested to see what she comes up with. This process has also made me want to blog more regularly on my site, so we’ll see.

Today’s post is inspired by a concert we went to a few years ago now. To be honest, it was a band we’ve both been fans of since their heyday of the early 90s, to be honest they were always about an indulgent sound, and to be honest while I love their songs I found their set to be low energy compared to the local support band, Regurgitator.

To be honest, I didn’t connect with them until the encore and that was when I discovered that a secret dream of my heart was to be in a room (however large or small) and sing this song along with them.

Now, Fi told me to phone it in but I’m not capable of doing that, quite. Instead I’ll observe a small aspect of our relationship that the first lines of the song make me think of; “what’s with these homies dissin’ my girl/why do they gotta front?/what did we ever do to these guys/that they’d get so violent?”

Fi and I have a couple of times encountered aggressive people. One was a neighbour at our old house who found me checking on his 2 year old who had been left in the front yard in a pram at 10pm at night, and the other was a guy parked in a disabled parking spot without a permit when there was non-disabled parks mere meters away.

In both of these situations, the people objected to polite inquiries and threats ensued in the form of offers to be knocked around. In most situations involving physical threats, I work very hard to de-escalate as an ingrained habit. Not so much Fi. It wasn’t a case of the homies dissing the girl but more the girl was dissing the homies.

Now, further threats did further ensue, but not actual violence. It’s been a long time since I dodged punches from skinheads in the Auckland punk scene and I’m not sure I’m still that good at dodging.

Anyhow, here’s Weezer.