To Whom It May Concern...

I was raised on a steady diet of bad music.  Both my parents had a particularly poor taste in music, and our minivan was stocked to the hilt with the music stylings of (but not limited to):  The Bee Gees (you've got to love those Gibbs, am I right?), Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, Dion and the Belmonts, Barry Manilow and the Cocktail movie soundtrack.

Do most of those artists sound completely unfamiliar to you? You should be so lucky.

But for years and years, these are the cassette tapes that blasted music throughout our vehicle on short trips to the store and long trips to the beach.  I knew the albums inside out, had memorized every lyric, and grown fond of the melodies.

I had been brainwashed to love crappy music.

It took many years of fighting through the muck, but I believe I've grown to have a good (albeit eclectic) taste in music.  My playlists span a range of genres, but most artists are modern. Or at least make reasonable music.

While I've overcome most of my bad music addictions, there is one that has withstood the war I've waged, and I believe it is here to stay.


So I am here to confess:

I kind of sort of not-so-secretly love 
Air Supply.

And I may or may not know all the words to every song on their Greatest Hits album.


And I am no way apologetic about it.






That is all.




And for your awesomely bad 80's rock viewing pleasure: