Tag Archives: Justin Bieber

“Baby Got Back” is My Wife’s Walkup Song. What’s Yours?

1 Jul

Sitting around having a beer with a buddy tonight, I asked, “What would your walkup song be?”

“’Freeze-Frame’ by J. Geils Band.”

“Nice.”

Put me in, Coach! I'm ready to play!

Playing in the major leagues would be awesome. Five-gallon buckets of free sunflower seeds, a job where it’s not only acceptable but expected that you spit excessively in the workplace, and the freedom to readjust one’s “equipment” every 15 seconds in front of thousands of people.

But the best part of playing in the bigs would have to be the walkup song.

If you’re unfamiliar with the walkup song concept, it goes something like this: as a home team batter is walking up to the plate (because the plate sits on a plateau, apparently), a song of his choosing blares over the ballpark’s loudspeakers.

Sort of like how Darth Vader’s appearance cues “The Imperial March.”

Just think: one song to announce your presence, who you are, what you’re going to do.

Sweet, right?

But also a lot of pressure. One song. Thousands if not millions of people making a judgment of sorts based on what you choose.

Case in point. The other night I’m watching the Rockies game, and Colorado shortstop Troy Tulowitzki, one of the top players in the game today, strides confidently to the plate, bottom of the 13th, 2-2 game, the crowd going mad crazy, and playing in the background is… “Baby, baby, baby, ohhhh.”

Bieber?

Interesting choice. But hey, the guy scored the winning run busting his tail from first to home on a bloop single, and he’s the leading vote-getter among National League shortstops for the All-Star Game, so who am I to question his walkup choice?

But still: Bieber?

And then I got to thinking: what walkup songs would best represent the players on our home team?

Here’s the starting line-up:

Slim: “Star Wars Main Theme”/ “Rebel Fanfare”/ “Imperial March”

(May vary depending on his mood, but it’s gotta be one of the original Star Wars scores by John Williams. The kid is Jedi to the core.

As a side, I think a major leaguer walking up to “Cantina Band” would be hilarious.)

Perpetual Motion: “Fuel” by Metallica

(The tempo of this song is all P-Motion. Sunup to sundown, this kid’s on the move. Places to go, critters to catch, don’t stop, can’t stop, move, explore, live. A second choice would be “Thank God I’m a Country Boy” by John Denver, because his soul needs space, and fortunately he’s got it.)

Hellcat: “Just a Girl” by No Doubt

(She has that Gwen Stefani-type sass. Nobody’s going to define her role for her. And if they try to, she’ll let ‘em have it. And even if they don’t, she might just let ‘em have it anyway. “Smells Like Teen Spirit” would work, too, because I swear the girl is trying to make the direct jump from 4 to 17.)

Eyes closed. This game is easy.

Tax Credit #4: “Centerfield” by John Fogerty

(As the youngest, #4 just wants in the game.  Happy, carefree, Dude-let’s-just-get-outside-and-find-something-fun attitude. Yet, there is also a smidge of “Sabotage” by Beastie Boys because he’ll make his presence known by disrupting the best-laid plans of his siblings if they don’t let him play.)

Kick Ass Wife: “Baby Got Back” by Sir Mix-A-Lot

(Whoa, whoa, whoa! Take it easy. There’s a story here. Back in college, KAW and one of her cronies choreographed an entire dance routine to this song in their dorm room.

Since then it has made occasional appearances at wedding receptions, reunions, hell, even poolside in Vegas, and has gained legendary status in certain circles.

Let me tell ya, she flat drops it like it’s hot, and I’m not just saying that because she’s KAW. It’s the real deal.

But, just in case she’s not down with it, a safe second choice would be “S & M” by Rihanna.

I’m joking! Geez.

“Humpty Dance” by Digital Underground?

Okay, okay. We’ll pencil in “Wagon Wheel” by Old Crow Medicine Show as an alternate. She’ll like that.)

Me: “Toes” by Zac Brown Band

(If I really was a major leaguer, I’d hope that the line ”life is good today” would help me keep in perspective that I’m getting paid to play a game, and I’d better have a damn big smile on my face when any little kid runs up and wants some of my time. Which is the same thing I need to keep in mind with my own kids, actually, because they look up at me like I am a major leaguer. They just want my time and attention. I should be able to do that.)

Of course other parts of my day have different walkup songs. First thing in the morning it’s all “I Can See Cleary Now” by Bob Marley. That usually lasts about 20 minutes. After that, ”Welcome to the Jungle” plays on a continuous loop.

Coming out of the bathroom? Easy: “That Smell” by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

In the bedroom? “Eye of the Tiger.”

Oh, yeah. You feelin’ me, Survivor?

Wait, KAW just said something.

What?

Oh, real funny.

According to her, I’d best pick something by The Pretenders.

*****

So, I know you’ve been thinking about it:

What’s your walkup song?

Friday Four: Plunging, fishing, Hellcat spotting, and Leroy farewelling.

3 Dec

Where did last week go?

Is it under the couch cushions, along with the remote control, MIA Star Wars figures, and half-eaten apple slices?

Is there such a thing as non-essential Weird Al?

Last week flew by like Perpetual Motion hot-on-the-heels of a butterfly. It’s already Friday Four time, so let’s get right to it, starting with the painful realization that I am not the next “Weird Al” Yankovic. (But I mean, really, who could be?)

1. The day I plunged this blog’s integrity down the toilet.

Monday, I posted lyrics to “Day of the Plunger,” what I thought was an ingenious retooling of Survivor’s epic hit “Eye of the Tiger.” After publishing, I fully expected my WordPress stat-o-meter to start spinning faster than the Griswolds’ utilities gauge after Clark finally gets the Christmas lights figured out. Fingers stretched out and limbered up, I readied myself to type witty replies and gracious words of thanks in response to all of the glowing compliments I was going to receive on my lyrical genius.

What I got instead was the soundtrack to the Broadway musical Crickets Chirping.

This blog’s esteemed readership didn’t seem to be that hip on my rendering. I was flabbergasted. The formula I used seemed fool-proof:

bathroom humor + Thanksgiving + 80’s rock classic = Solid Gold

Apparently, not so much. Thank God I didn’t include a link to the audio version I recorded using my only-on-really-special-occasions Justin Bieber voice.

2. The day that the annual celebration of Kick Ass Wife’s birth rolled up its sleeve and fished this blog’s integrity out of the toilet.

The response to yesterday’s post wishing Kick Ass Wife a happy 16th birthday? Just what I had expected to happen with the “Day of the Plunger” post: pure adulation. And I didn’t do anything more than take knives away from the kids and ask them a few questions.

So songs about clogging the crapper are crap but anecdotes about adorable little kids doing and saying precious things that show how much they love their wonderful mother are a ratings bonanza?

Well, when you put it that way…

The Hellcat and the rest of the Species brood.

3. Is that the Hellcat?

I had one of the pictures from our family photo shoot framed and it just so happened that I received a call on Wednesday, the day before KAW’s birthday, telling me it was finished, so I was able to surprise her with it on her birthday. One thousand husbanding bonus points.

What’s funny, though, is that when I went to pick up the picture, the gal who framed it told me, “Someone else was in here earlier today, and when she saw that picture, she pointed to your little girl and said, ‘That must be the Hellcat.’”

4. Leroy, adieu.

Today, I bade farewell to Leroy, my Movember moustache whom I mistakenly described as a handlebar  but who was in fact more of a Fu Manchu. Leroy helped me to reach a whole new level of facially-haired dorkiness, and together we were able to raise about $700 for men’s cancer awareness through the generosity of others. A special thanks to those who donated.

It was definitely a worthwhile endeavor, especially considering that my typical clean-shaven dorkiness really benefits no one.

Oh, and by the way, Leroy totally got “Day of the Plunger.” He was down with it.

Leroy, until next Movember, my friend.

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