“Niblets in the Sun”

On occasion, my  Rockstar and I spend a goodly amount of minutes wandering through the virtual musical world of Rhapsody. Last night was one of those nights. (We also just so happened to be accompanied by Marilyn Monroe and her strawberry-flavored vodka.)

After listening to the growling of a less-than-talented death metal band, I told my Rockstar that we needed to listen to something a little more happy. He pooh-poohed George Strait’s new album (which was fine), and somehow we started listening to Madonna. My Rockstar requested Like a Virgin, me thinks because I do so make him feel as though he is touched for the very first time. This started a whole new wave of music listening- that of 80’s pop. Welcome to the land of the Eurythmics, Cyndi Lauper, Phil Collins, and Billy Joel.

To both my Rockstar and I, these musicians fall into the category of Talented-Because-of-Style, or in Phil Collins’ case, his name just happened to come up. I adore Billy Joel for his piano abilities; I have a hard time deciding if I actually like his songs. However, we chose to listen to Only the Good Die Young, and I found myself jigging along. (Yes, I jig, because I wish I was Irish.)

There was a point in the song where I sang along to my favorite lyrics: “That stained-glass window you’re hiding behind Niblets in the sun”, when my Rockstar gave me the strangest look. I sheepishly admitted that I never could understand what Billy said in that line, and Niblets seemed like an interesting enough choice to include. Now, I realize there are no Niblets in the sun, so it would be nearly impossible to hide behind them, (that is, if One could even figure out what a Niblet was in the first place) but who am I to judge Billy’s musical genius? I DID decide I had remained clueless long enough, and so I looked up the actual lyrics, which make a little more sense. (They are “the stained-glass window you’re hiding behind never lets in the sun”, in case you no longer wish to sing about Niblets either.)

We went on to listen to a plethora of other sub-standard music, when my Rockstar got caught up in John cougar Mellencamp’s web, and I discovered something. My Rockstar judges me when I get excited to hear the Backstreet Boys or the Spice Girls- John Cougar is his Spice Girls. I watched in abject horror as he plucked away on his guitar and sang to every Mellencamp song ever written. How I did wish then that I was behind some Niblets in the sun…