An explanation for one of my many neuroses

My high school was small and odd in a lot of ways, one of which was that we had a student lounge with ratty, comfy furniture and big tables and a jukebox, where we could spend our free periods and where teachers were not allowed to enter, at all, ever. The Lounge was governed by a committee made up of two representatives from each class, elected along with the various student government offices. And let me tell you - screw class president, Lounge Committee Rep was a real public service job.

The Lounge Committee was charged with the physical and social maintenance of the Lounge, which included not just furniture but setting rules and policy, mediating disputes, and even, on rare occasions, discipline of fellow students. Monies had to be raised for repair or replacement of various and sundry things, although I'm pretty certain all the furniture had been left out on street corners with "Free!" signs.

The jukebox was both a source of income and expense - a real, old-fashioned one with 45s, a nickel a song. When I arrived in 1979, the jukebox had cruised along happily for a decade on the staples of the 1960s and 70s - the Beatles, The Who, Jimmi Hendrix, Janis Joplin. But the times they were a-changin', and the Lounge Committee spent a good deal of its time and energy deciding what music stayed, what new things could be added, and what would have to go to make room for the new. Grudgingly, one column was permitted for R&B - Earth Wind & Fire, the Commodores - and then, more grudgingly, another column for the bouncy pop music of the day (remember Duran Duran? Bananarama?).

There are certain songs and artists that I absolutely, positively cannot tolerate, due to pathological overexposure during my tender teen years. Some of these songs were actually victims of a nonviolent resistence strategy employed by students who wanted a song removed from the jukebox: Bring in a pocketful of change every day and play the song over and over and over until we all begged our Loung Committee Reps to take it off, TAKE IT OFF NOW. Turning Japanese by the Vapors was one such tune - when it unexpectedly turned up in the Charlie's Angels movie soundtrack, I nearly ran screaming from the theater. Live and Let Die by Paul McCartney was another.

Sadly, my taboo list includes quite a lot of music that Enrico really likes. It's not an aesthetic taste, I assured him when I 'fessed up in our early dating days, it's a conditioned response. The moment I hear the first few notes of Won't Get Fooled Again by the Who, I will lunge for the radio dial like I've just received an electrical shock.

Of course, there are also songs which send me into a happy nostalgic place instead of a traumatic one: Superstition by Stevie Wonder, Black Coffee in Bed by Squeeze, Rocky Raccoon by the Beatles. There's a beautiful, haunting B-side-only song by Prince, How Come U Don't Call Any More.

And then, a few songs were unanimously loved by all factions for their sheer eccentricity, like I'm Henry the VIII, I Am by Herman's Hermits, or Nancy Sinatra's These Boots Were Made for Walkin'. These songs, they made me believe in the possibility of world peace.