never heard a song that made me want to lose my lunch so bad…

ah, the lady in red. somehow, it sounds so much more romantic, lady in red, then, say, the harlot in scarlet. when this song came out in 1986, i was a bit sour on the idea of love. (to put it mildly.) sappy love songs, especially ones that are the aural equivalent of valium as this one is to me, were not my style, not then and not now. how lovely, a romantic contrarian might think, that the singer remembers what his wife was wearing the first time they met (as the story goes.) i’m sure if you asked my husband what i was wearing, he would have that deer in the headlights look. fortunately, there are so many, many other important reasons why he is a keeper. (hell. there are days when i’m not entirely certain what i had for breakfast.)

anyway, as a followup to his earlier minor hit don’t pay the ferryman, de burgh’s lady in red was just incredibly disappointing to me.  it is the poster child for the concept of twee.

as an aside, i cannot hear this song now without thinking of one of the most psychotic television characters i have seen in a long time: trevor morgan.  trev, who i am pretty sure was voted the worst of the worst in terms of meanness on a variety of UK polls, is the presumed dead ex-husband of Little Mo on my beloved EastEnders.  an incredibly abusive spouse, trevor would pummel the mousy Mo and make her feel like she had earned it. he shoved her face in food on the floor and made her eat it. he bloodied her. her had an affair — with a baby resulting — and yelled at Mo for trying to figure it all out.

finally, on a new years eve, Little Mo was babysitting at pauline fowler’s house when the doorbell rang.

ding dong: psycho calling!

mo made the grave error of opening the door. BAM! trevor came in and started to pound away. only, too bad for trevor: pauline fowler kept her kitchen well-stocked with cleaning supplies. mo grabbed a hot iron she was using and BAM! she beat the hell out of trevor. her sisters came in and helped her hide trevor’s body and clean up the kitchen, but when they went to check on trevor’s body — he had disappeared…

little mo ended up spending time in prison for what she had done, and trevor continued to terrorize her until he essntially burned up in a house explosion, along with the at-the-time hottie on the square, tom. such a waste, but for such a good cause.

anyway, what does all of this have to do with lady in red?

lady in red was little mo and trevor’s song.

am i the only one who keeps hoping sheena easton gets tied to the tracks?

hello, and welcome to a month of egregious ’80’s music. our first offender? sheenapoo. it wasn’t easy to pick which one of her musical contributions was most offensive; after all, she also sang prince’s sugar walls, an incredibly vile song about a vay-jay-jay.

but morning train bothered me from the very first time i heard it.  when it was released in 1980, i could not see anything redeeming in a bouncy-brite pop tune about a lady who basically waits at home all day long until her man comes home from work. yep, nothing to see here, just a lady who is completely and utterly dependent on her guy for her happiness.

now at 15, i had read plenty of articles in magazines telling me that the worst thing in the world that i could do in my existence would be to basically drop everything for a boy. to hear miss white-bread dizz-ball proclaiming that she spent eight straight hours doing nothing but sit and stay while her master is away was vomit-inducing then (and now.) why, go do something useful in the world, hon. get a job. volunteer. be a human, fer cryin’ out loud.

unbelievably, the song gets worse:

He takes me to a movie
Or to a restaurant, to go
Slow dancing
Anything I want
Only when he’s with me
I catch a light
Only when he gives me
Makes me feel alright

did i shut my eyes and enter the 1950s? can someone please get this chick a copy of the feminine mystique, please!   i feel like i need to sponsor an intervention here! girl, if you only got a job, you could pay for things you want and not have to wait for this dude. you can take yourself to your own damn movie — a chick flick, even — and not have to wait until he deems it ok. even i, at 15, knew that there was something terribly, horribly awful about the message this song was sharing: depend on your man and of course he will always look after you.

until his leggy secretary enters the picture.

girl — you’re good enough, you’re smart enough, and gosh darn it — you have bouncin’ and behavin’ 80s hair. derail yourself from this song and move on.