You're the One

vogue [ vohg ]
noun
something in fashion, as at a particular time:
Short hairdos were the vogue in the twenties.

popular currency, acceptance, or favor; popularity:
The book is having a great vogue.

When I was younger (before the days of the Internet), we could only listen to music if we had the recording. These could be on tape, 8-track, cassette, or phonograph record. By the time CDs came into fashion, I was already somewhat grown up. It took time to get a recording ready. You'd have to find the album, the 45, or the position of the recording on the tape.
Of course, if you were a musician, you could pull out the sheet music and play it on your instrument. However, if you instrument were a reeded woodwind, brass, or recorder-like instrument, you'd be hard-pressed to sing along (unless you had the golden voice of Marion Lush).
Anyway, there are times when I think about what I'd like to hear when I feel as if the world is: (a) caving in on me, (b) slinging biohazardous waste my way, (c) dealing me a hand of crap, and so on, and so forth. The above-mentioned was a 1965 recorded song on the A-side of a 45 by the Vogues, a Pittsburgh boy band. (Are they still a boy band after they've graduated high school?).
It's a pick-me-up tune with clipped, short phrases. "You're the one," "Baby, you're the one..." It must be nice to have a you're-the-one in one's life. It's even better when the you're-the-one feels the same way as the person who declares that the you're-the-one is the one. I think about that aspect of life and relationships when I have reveries about the ones who have crossed my path and turned into disasters. Some never quite grew. Others became bitter and mean. And then there are some who simply fell off the RADAR. No Facebook, no twidder, no hits on web searches. Kind of reminds me of the time I told someone that when I was growing up, my Mother would make us tuna fish sandwiches with Peacock tuna rather than with the more expensive Bumble Bee brand. "Peacock? Never heard of it." So, I did a search online and nothing came up. There was a reference to the store at which the Peacock brand tuna had been purchased:

"One indoor market was directly across the street from Jake’s pickle stand. As soon as you entered, your salivary glands began working overtime as the intoxicating aroma from the heartburn-inducing fare at
Feuer’s Appetizing overwhelmed your nostrils. Squeezing past his barrels of salted herring, trays of
pickled herring, slabs of smoked salmon begging to be sliced, platoons of smoked whitefish, and tubular
salamis aligned like artillery shells, you came upon the chicken stand."

Tuna is a staple in my life. Wouldn't say that it releases me from a funk (like the Vogues' tune), but it is--shall we say--a comfort food.