First, I think this 2005 thread about which is more annoying “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It” or “We Didn’t Start The Fire” is my favorite thing on the Internet today. That’s saying a lot, because I fell pretty hard for The BBC’s The Women of Watergate package.

I discovered the thread because I realized that even though I’d probably come down on the R.E.M. side of this debate, I know all the words to “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” I know about 1/4 of the words to the other song.

At first I thought, “hrmm, perhaps you can discern something insightful about a GenXer’s personality based on which song they were more familiar with.” But then I decided the Billy Joel song is easier to remember because it’s a chronological listing of events and R.E.M’s song is random set of lyrics that may or may not make sense based on your feelings about R.E.M.

With ‘Fire’ you can make a pretty educated guess based on the music and rhyme scheme and history what’s gonna come next. ‘End’ not so much.

Also, I think MTV played the shit out of the video when it came out in 1989 and I don’t recall MTV playing any R.E.M. video back then that wasn’t “Stand.”

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Here’s how it all started.

Two summers ago my friend, The Theologian, and I were talking about books we loved in our twenties. He talked about Sophie’s Choice and I talked about A Prayer for Owen Meany and we both wondered if we would still love them now. If life and our writing education would ruin those books. I vowed to re-read Owen Meany to see if it still holds. He bought me a copy of Sophie’s Choice, because I’d never read it.

I haven’t read either book since we had that conversation.

*****

Long about May (I think), when I was making a Billy Joel tribute list, Steve announced how he used to love Billy Joel as a kid but pretty much can’t stand his music now.

Huh, I wondered. Is that a male thing? Because I still love Billy Joel and all the misty nostalgia goodness his music brings up. It’s got to be a male thing, I decided. But then I listened to Alanis Morissette’s “Jagged Little Pill” and it was bad. It was beyond bad. It was awful.

*****

About a month ago while lamenting the sucktasticness of The Astral with Christa, we decided we’d go back and read our favorite books from years gone by. Really see if they hold up, if we still love them like we used to. I vowed, once again, to read A Prayer for Owen Meany.

******

Last week, I quickly read the first 50 to 100 pages of three separate novels before dismissing each one. I wasn’t sure about the point of view in that one. The humor in this one is jejune (my new favorite word which is impossible to use without sounding like an asshole, but I don’t care because it fits perfectly here). And that other one? Totally boring.

At that point, I decided that maybe it was me and not the books. I was literarily cranky and annoyed by everything in book form.

So with nowhere else to turn to, and nothing else I wanted to read, I turned to the bookcase and pulled out The Giant’s House by Elizabeth McCracken. This is a book I recommend to anyone who ever asks me for a book suggestion.

When I think of the pop-cultural artifacts that I would gather up to give to someone so they could ‘get’ me or know what kind of person I was based on the media I consumed and enjoyed, The Giant’s House would be in that basket along with “Dawson’s Creek,” the movie “Beautiful Girls,” and a copy of Liz Phair’s “Exile in Guyville.” After all, there’s some credence to what Rob Gordon from “High Fidelity” said about how it’s not what you are like, but what you like that counts.

But then not too long ago, I’d probably have included “Jagged Little Pill” in that basket. And maybe me from 2010 would be appalled that me from 2011 is dissing on something we loved so much in 1995.

So, as my fortieth birthday approaches, I’ve decided to re-evaluate all my personal pop-cultural artifacts to see how they hold up over time, and find out which ones remain in the Chromey Canon and which ones get the boot.

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Billy Joel’s high musical status is due to my cousin Laurie, who would bring over her 45s whenever she babysat. Laurie was the most beautiful, glamourous junior high schooler on the planet as far as I was concerned. She knew everything about everything that was important like lipgloss and hair. She had a boyfriend who played hockey and gave her a necklace. She would go to the Northtown Mall with her friends and not her parents. So sophisticated.

And she liked Billy Joel. Specifically, “It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me.” We would listen to this record over and over and over again on sunny summer mornings. We’d all sit on the floor next to my parents’ very 70s white stereo and Laurie would play records and tell us about them. I only remember two other songs we’d listen to: REO Speedwagon’s “Take it on the Run” and Blondie’s “The Tide is High.” While I enjoyed those songs it was Billy Joel who captured my heart.

Whenever we’d listen to it while Laurie told us about her glamourous friends and going to Northtown she’d always pause near the end of the song at the last “but it’s still rock and roll to me” you know where each beat is emphasized with the bass drum and cymbal, right before that last “Ooooh Hoo!”? She’d pause there and say, “Shh, if you listen you can hear where he takes a swig of his beer.”

I’d turn my ear to the speaker and listen as hard as good. Though I didn’t hear it, I’m sure I pretended like I could. Drinking beer in the middle of the song? That was the epitome of rock and roll to an eight-year-old.

Fuck yeah, Billy Joel.

In honor of that and of today, Mr. Joel’s 62nd birthday I present to you his 10 greatest songs.

10. You May Be Right: “Turn out the lights, don’t try to save me.” 20something (and 30something and probably 40something) women should just take up that line as a mantra. Any man you have to save probably isn’t worth it. Of course, the rest of the song is all about how she is probably looking for someone “crazy” to spice up her dull life. Still we can all agree on the great use of 80s sax, right?

09. She’s Got a Way: I’m a sucker for dude and a piano music, which probably started with Billy (and bled over to Ben and Rufus). Seriously, dude with guitar is hot, but there is something super extra special sexy and dude that can sit down at a piano and sing. What I like about this song is that it’s all about how much he loves the “she” in the song. How she inspires him and makes him feel and the only nod to her looks is her smile. It’s refreshing in the whole post-“Pretty Woman” and “Wonderful Tonight” world.

08. Lullaby (Goodnight My Angel): Two things: 1.) the first CD I ever bought was in 1993 it was “River of Dreams” by Billy Joel (the second CD? “Pocket Full of Kryptonite” by The Spin Doctors). 2.) Men singing lullabies is so sweet my heart usually can’t even take it and I have to cry at the sweetness of it all.

07. Allentown: Two words — Chromium steel.

06. My Life : Probably the nicest fuck you song ever written. Also, the theme to “Bosom Buddies.” And who the hell didn’t love that show?

0. Piano Man Heresy! I am putting what is probably the best-known Billy Joel song smack dab in the middle of the countdown. Why? Because the song is cute and all, but overplayed. Radio and drunken college students have killed this song. Blame them, not me.

04. We Didn’t Start the Fire: Oh yes. Yes I did include this on the list. Not only did I include it, I put it above “Piano Man.” You can say what you want about this song we all learned a hell of a lot about history from it (which is no surprise for me because my US History teacher made us watch a lot of Sally Field movies in lieu of learning actual history because he thought she was cute).

03. For the Longest Time: I know I will get a lot of shit not just for including this song, but for placing it so high in the list. I like this do-wop sort of song. Plus, I spent about $60 1984 dollars playing this song (along with “Rock the Casbah” and “Run Run Away”) in the jukbox at Capones in the Shakopee Town Mall while playing pinball and Ms. Pacman.

02. Only the Good Die Young: The feminist part of me should abhor any song that tries to coerce an innocent Catholic girl into sex. But the music lover in me can’t resist this one. I have no idea how old I was when I first heard this song, or how old I was when I first “got it.” However, it was one of the first songs where I really understood what was going on in the song, how all the words worked together to create the meaning. And that line about how her mom never said a prayer for him. . . I always loved it. I’m not sure why. (also, more sax).

01. It’s Still Rock & Roll to Me: Did you read the very long introduction to this piece? If not, go back and do that. This should not be a surprise.

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I will never understand the men who do not want to buy things for children, not willing to pony up to make sure they have some new pants for school. Whatever. I can’t get into too much because I don’t want to start crying all over again.

Once I hung up, I immediately dialed up some Billy Joel. It soothes me and reminds me of being a kid, when things were so much simpler.

Of course as soon as I think about Billy Joel, I start thinking about Elton John. Then Ben Folds. Then Rufus Wainwright. It just seems like a natural progression in my head. Then I got to thinking about how I’m generally a sucker for a dude on a piano.

Huh, that’s interesting.

I went back to trying to not be angry with my former brother-in-law, but my brain kept thinking boy with a piano boy with a piano boy with a piano, where did that start?

And then I remembered Joel Cole, the boy who lived next door to my grandparents on Apgar Street. Joel was a talented older kid, a friend of my Aunt Cathy’s (who is only two years older than I am, and obviously lived with my grandparents).

Joel played the piano, and I have a very distinct memory of him busting out Ebony and Ivory on a piano in my grandparents’ garage shortly after my Grandpa Cub had died. In my memory he was trying to distract us from the all the sorrow surrounding the house, the adults. In fact, Sisters #2 & #3 both remember it that way too.

And that, that right there was where my boy with a piano thing started.

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