Dan Fogelberg "Run For The Roses"

I have a philosophy on music that might strike you as counter-intuitive.

I am resolutely a non-snob.

If you think about what my job is, as a music director, it is actually the epitome of snobbery in one respect, in that I listen to piles of songs, and deem a mere few worthy of regular airplay.

So, yes, I am discerning. I like what I like, and am fully-committed when I decide to champion a song.

But the most important part of being a programmer is being fully aware that I am programming for others, not for myself.

If a chef at a restaurant only cooked food to his specific taste, only a narrow clientele would want to eat there. A good chef plans a varied menu, and, even if they like food reaaaally spicy, they only season the food to the average customer's palate.

People like what they like, and that's okay.

I don't get hyped up when someone hears Gram Parsons and asks, "What is this shit?"

I think it's fully appropriate for a teenage girl to love that "I Whip My Hair Back And Forth" song.

And if Mom wants to listen to classical radio because she enjoys it, she should.

But I didn't always feel that way.

I was seeing this girl. She was the friend of a friend and we'd been paired up on a night on the town. There was some chemistry there, so we agreed so see each other again.

You can cruise on chemistry in the early early going, but at some point, you're going to have to get to know someone.

She'd dropped the hint a couple of times that she'd recently ended a long term relationship, so I felt obligated to ask, felt like she wanted me to ask: "So why did you guys break up?"

"Well, it's like that Dan Fogelberg song . . ."

I can tell you that I have no idea how that sentence ended, or anything she said from that moment on, because my mind immediately switched to concocting an escape plan.

If this girl could explain any aspect of her life through the sappy pap of Dan Fogelberg, then she and I would absolutely never, ever, ever, have anything to talk about.

I was an unrepentant snob, and I got out of there as fast as I could. I'm sure she had no idea why I left in such haste.

Years later, I think about that guy (me), "What a jerk." I still don't like that Dan Fogelberg song. But if you do, I'll still be your friend.