On the rare occasion that I have some time alone where I
can listen to music without anyone else around I love to crank Pandora. I turn
on the “Diane” station and wonder why I don’t listen to it more often. It plays
me songs that I love – songs that I had forgotten about. It plays me songs that
bring back great memories. It occasionally throws a new song in the mix and you
know what? I end up loving it. It’s because Pandora knows me. We’re friends. We’re
maybe even BFFs.
Then some days I turn on the “Kid” station and Pandora
quickly becomes my enemy. Now let’s keep in mind that I turn the music on for
the kids so that they leave me alone. I envision them playing with their toys
while happily listening to some tunes. This is never the case. Instead I hear, “We
don’t know this song,” “This is a Mamma song (Note: It’s not),” “This is a
Dadda song (Note: It’s not),” “We don’t like this song.” The thing is Pandora
doesn’t understand the completely irrational minds of my children. It doesn’t
understand that they want to hear the same ten songs on repeat all day long. It
doesn’t understand that they will gladly listen to any Disney princess song but
if you play Mary Poppins or Hercules they will scream. It doesn’t understand
that they want to hear Hakuna Matata but if you play the Broadway version of it a revolution
occurs. It doesn’t understand that they do not want ANY variety at all. So
every time I make the mistake of putting on Pandora for them I spend the
majority of my time yelling at the computer/TV (and the children) while
frantically pushing the thumbs down button.
Oh, Pandora I couldn’t love (or hate) you any more than I
do.
