Today when I was driving the 80s classic Journey classic, “Don’t Stop Believin’” came on. Just as I was about to switch the channel, I stopped, and decided to listen. It’s funny, this is a song I really don’t like on a typical Tuesday afternoon, but when it’s played at a wedding, I love belting out the cheesy lyrics at the top of my lungs, all the while spilling red wine down the front of my bridesmaid or cocktail dress.
Then I got thinking, isn’t that a funny phenomenon? Stuff that you only like at certain times or at certain places? Like hot dogs. I mean, I don’t have any aversion to them, but at a baseball game, geez, I could eat 20 and go back for more. There’s something about guys in knickers and jock straps spitting chew in the dirt that makes reconstituted pig parts mouth watering. Same thing with Milk Duds candy. I would never ever buy these to bring into my home, but they are must-have for every movie I see in the theaters. I can’t tell you the last time I’ve taken in a film on the big screen without that yellow box of sugar and partially hydrogenated soybean oil in hand. Likewise — I love reading “Real Simple” when I’m on planes, the only time I enjoy mass is at midnight on Christmas Eve, I usually hate board games but not on vacation…and so on.
Is it Pavlovian? Or just ritualistic? Or both? I guess I really don’t care — just give me grilled cheese and tomato soup on rainy days and ghetto rap when I go jogging!