There is one song that I both hate and love in equal measure.
That song is riding solo.
I hate it, because it is damn awful and hurts my ears.
In the second part of my two part series on missing my friend Liz, I thought it the only way to truly honour her retail memory was to look back at the song she gave such beauty and life to.
Liz and I used to enjoy singing along to the store soundtrack, and our own personal favourites, to pass them time on the selling floor. With another friend, Dean, we decided we were the Acconcessions; an a Capella glee club made up of concession employees. It was going to be huge.
Now both of them have gone; one to The Weekly and the other to a different store and I am left to deal with their loss and the associated loss of our singing careers; it is a double blow. The final blow in this story is that I am still in our store and hear the sweet tunes that our little collective once so happily sung.
Getting back to the main point of the article, Liz’s (non-Wicked) showstopper, which is still on high rotation, was Jason Derulo’s, Ridin’ Solo.
I have never seen such a skinny, white girl break it down quite like Liz could. She had the sass of Tyra, the projection of Oprah and dancing prowess of a rapper; she was like S, O…L O.
The irony is that it is now I, who am ridin’ solo.
Now, I can not hear the words “putting’ on my shades” without first cringing, and then smiling remembering our shop floor serenades and the pure joy we got from the store soundtrack.
While I hate you Jason Derulo for, in my opinion, this abomination of a song, I love you for the memories you have given me.
Yin and yang; life is good. Thank you store soundtrack!
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