I forgot the other reason I loved Tower yesterday. Yes, the cd I stumbled across is called: 
Tracks: I Need a Lover, Pat Benatar; It Ain't the Meat It's the Motion (HOLY GOD. MUST LOVE THIS TITLE!), Maria Muldaur; Girl Talk, Julie London; Someone Else is Steppin' In, Ernestine Anderson; Mr. Big Stuff, Jean Knight; You Better Sit Down, Kids; Cher; One Less Bell to Answer, The Fifth Dimension...
Okay, this gets its own entry. I love this song. "One less, egg to fry. One less man to pick up...after. And all I do is cry." I was probably the only kid I knew who knew of Marilyn McCoo BEFORE she went slumming with Rex Smith on Solid Gold. (Leave Andy Gibb alone. Don't even go there.) Now, whereas now I'd be like "fry your own damned eggs," (I cook other stuff. As my best friend's son says, "ChilLAX!") I was probably the only toddler whose favorite songs were "Fly Robin Fly" and "One Less Bell to Answer", not to be confused with "One Less Set of Footsteps" by Jim Croce, which is also in my childhood pantheon. "One less pair of jeans, upon your door, one less voice a talkin'". Jesus, my parents had built in word problems right there. There should have been no trouble teaching me simple subtraction. Still, no WONDER I was depressed for like fifteen years. ; ) But my love for Jim has been discussed and acknowledged. The rest of that lyric is awesome:
"Oh tomorrow's a dream away, and today has turned to dust. Your silver tongue has turned to clay, and your golden rule to rust. If that's the way that you want it, that's the way I want it more. And there'll be one less set of footsteps on your floor, in the morning." Jim didn't live long enough to hear "Ooh, snap," but he said it. Sort of. Okay, Jim and Marilyn break over. The rest of the disc is as follows:
Just A Little Lovin' (Early In The Morning), Dusty Springfield; Since I Fell For You, Lenny Welch;No Love, No Nothing, Mary Stallings; I Don't Want To Be Right, (If Loving You Is Wrong), Luther Ingram. And of course, the ultimate, the chestnut, the guaranteed-to-get-all-your-girls-even-the-ones-who-aren't-wasted-on-white-zin-out-on-the-floor-with-you number, I Will Survive, Gloria Gaynor. Go on, now. Go. Walk out the door. Just turn around now...yeah, yeah. You know the rest. Go find a friend who needs to hear it, because I know you probably have one. Bring her some wine and Pringles, turn it up loud, and dance with her. She'll love you even more than she does now, for the rest of your life, guaranteed.
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