How does an abandoned wife properly commemorate a very special celebration of an estranged husband who wanted her dead by his next birthday? Well, this wife has a warped sense of humor that refuses to die, coupled with an incorrigible jukebox in her head stocked with an endless supply of music for every idle thought and occasion.
Several weeks ago, I performed a grand sweep of my documents, emails and calendars to purge them of all reminders of my STBX (soon to be ex-husband). One deleted reminder was of his upcoming birthday. Guess which song began to play in a continuous loop on my inner jukebox?
Was it the Beatles' Happy Birthday?
We may be going to a party party and I hope we have a good time - at different addresses forever more, of course.
How about a new wave Happy Birthday by Altered Images?
This song elicits memories of early KROQ radio when they overplayed this frivolous little record quite simply because new wave was still in its toddler years and there weren't a lot of better options. It's far happier and poppier than my jukebox selection, though.
Happy Birthday by Concrete Blonde?
You'll never catch Johnette Napolitano jumping out of a birthday cake. This isn't the right song, but we're getting warmer.
Happy Birthday Guadalupe by the Killers deserves at least an honorable mention.
The Killers' birthday offering is also a Christmas song, at least marginally, and it honors the Mexican culture from which my Guanajuato born STBX likes to distance himself. But, no, this ain't it, either.
I'll spare you the birthday tributes by the Chipmunks, Michael Jackson and Marilyn Monroe to reveal the one song out of dozens available that my inner jukebox, quite independent of my personal preference to take the high road here, decided was the perfect selection to cue up for this occasion. Mr. Jukebox is clearly more vindictive than I, but I'm up for any excuse to promote Morrissey's lyrical excesses and Johnny Marr's sublime guitar work.
For the record, so to speak, I am not wishing anyone named Luis or Rosas an Unhappy Birthday - and it's not today, anyway. Every day since he left has been a happy unbirthday for me and my family, so I am in a forgiving, charitable mood. Unlike my STBX, I don't wish my spouse dead or ill. I actually wish him to be regenerated and reconciled with God.
Any resemblance between the lyrics and my personal circumstances is just a lucky guess by Mr. Jukebox. My conscience is perfectly clear and I can enjoy the Smiths' snarky humor without guilt. Join me, won't you?