Forty years ago this week, on March 29, 1986, the new Number One song was “Rock Me Amadeus” (video up top) by Austrian musician Falco, the stage name of Johann "Hans" Hölzel. The song was the first single from Falso’s third studio album, “Falco 3”. “Rock Me Amadeus” was Falco’s only Number One hit in the USA.
I have all sorts of trivia about this song, starting with the fact that it was the first—and so far only—German-language song to reach Number One on the Billboard “Hot 100”. The previous highest-charted German-language song hit Number Two in 1983: “99 Luftballons” by the West German band Nena. It was also the only of his songs to be Number One in both the UK and the USA, which I guess is something.
I have my own personal trivia about the song, which I loved because I loved Falco’s work. I first heard of him when I saw his 1982 debut album, Einzelhaft, in a Chicago record shop that had a lot of the New Wave, dance, and “alternative” music I loved. I bought the album and listened to it often. I was drawn to it because I’d studied German (poorly…) in high school, and was instantly fascinated by the album. The second single was “Der Kommissar”, which I liked. I have to add that I was irritated when British rock band After the Fire released an English-language cover of the song, and, predictably, their version did better on the US pop charts. Ganz natürlich.
So, because of my history, both attempting to learn the language of many of my ancestors, and my earlier discovery of Falco, I loved “Rock Me Amadeus” (and the follow-up single, “Vienna Calling”. I think I bought the album Falco 3, but I'm not sure because if I did, neither it nor Einzelhaft came to New Zealand with me. I know—because I still have it—that I bought a 12-inch version version of "Vienna Calling", which included the American Edit of “Rock Me Amadeus”.
I also liked the video (which, as I’ve made clear by now, isn’t always the case, even when I like the song). I particularly liked the surreality of the visuals, especially the folks in biker gear accompanying Falco dressed as Mozart, and mouthing, “Amadeus, Amadeus!, Amadeus, Amadeus!”
All of which means that this week’s song was unusual among the songs in these series of posts: I liked the song, the artist, and the video. That was rare even then,
“Rock Me Amadeus” reached Number 15 in Australia (Gold), 2 in Canada (Platinum), Number One in New Zealand (Gold), Number One in the UK (Gold), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100”, and was also Number One on the Cash Box “Top 100” chart. The song was certified Platinum in the USA.
The album Falso 3 reached Number 9 in Canada (Platinum), Number 2 in New Zealand, Number 32 in the UK, and Number 3 on the USA’s “Billboard 200” (Gold). The album didn’t chart in Australia.
This series will return in three weeks, on April 19, with the next new Number One from 1986.
Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Sunday, March 29, 2026
Saturday, March 28, 2026
AmeriNZ Podcast episode 423 is now available
AmeriNZ Podcast episode 423, “Nineteen years”, is now available from the podcast website. There, you can listen, download or subscribe to the podcast episode, along with any other episode.
Today is the nineteenth anniversary of the day I uploaded the first episode of the AmeriNZ Podcast. Naturally, I had to do a new episode to celebrate the day—and to update everything that’s happened since my previous episode.
The five most recent episodes of the podcast are listed on the sidebar on the right side of this blog.
Today is the nineteenth anniversary of the day I uploaded the first episode of the AmeriNZ Podcast. Naturally, I had to do a new episode to celebrate the day—and to update everything that’s happened since my previous episode.
The five most recent episodes of the podcast are listed on the sidebar on the right side of this blog.
Thursday, March 26, 2026
A welcome warning
Most people get warnings, alerts, advisories, etc., and often they can be useful, like warnings of approaching storms, for example. Earlier this month I got an alert about something happening early next month that was important to know about—and that alert was something I can’t recall ever having received before.
This story begins with an email. On the evening of March 7, I received an email from my electricity provider that said:
What made the email so unusual is that I can’t remember ever getting one like it. In the past, WEL would drop notices in our letterboxes if there was going to be a planned interruption in electricity supply, but I think that was back when most of the area I live in was still under construction. It’s been a very long time since I received a leaflet about interruptions, and that’s probably why they’re quite rare now. If my electricity supplier hadn’t sent that email, I might well have ended up surprised when the power is switched off in April, with no idea why it was off. Because I don’t get power bills by mail anymore, an email was the only way the supplier could warn me.
When I read the email, I hoped that “9am and 4pm” means sometime between those hours, and not the entire 7 hours, but I have no way of knowing. They also advised, “Before the planned outage, please make sure you disconnect all electrical equipment,” which really just means switching them off at the wall (in New Zealand, power points/wall outlets all have individual on/off switches for each outlet). That’s good advice for sensitive things like TVs and computers, and anything that’s always on, like fridges. When the power has gone out unexpectedly, usually because of storms, I always switch those items off at the wall to protect them when the power comes back on.
Another part of the email was for households where someone “depends on electricity for critical medical support”, as the email put it, and such folks were advised that they can contact their electricity company to see what their options are. I'd have thought that people with critical medical equipment would already have a contingency plan (I certainly would), but power companies are required to help those who don’t.
Hamilton City Council doesn’t send any kind of notices of work being done in the area, like tree trimming, weed spraying on Council land, or, even worse, when the water is going to be shut off for any scheduled reason. HCC hardly ever even posts alerts on their Facebook page, so pretty much everything they do is a surprise, which isn’t ideal.
I was glad that I was sent that email, and it’s even better that we got nearly a month’s advance warning of a power outage (when I say “we”, that’s mostly because I posted about this on our community Facebook Page, partly because I have no idea whether other electricity companies sent notices to their customers, nor whether others read such emails). I added the event to my calendar, of course, so I can remember it’s happening, because I’d certainly be unlikely to remember otherwise. This way, when it happens, I can be prepared—devices fully charged, coffee made before 9am, those sorts of things, because my solar panels don't have battery backup.
So, thanks to that unusual email, I should be set. I guess knowledge really is power.
This story begins with an email. On the evening of March 7, I received an email from my electricity provider that said:
WEL Networks, is planning to turn off the power in you area for routine maintenance work between 09:00 AM Thursday 02 April 2026 and 04:00 PM Thursday 02 April 2026.A little background: WEL Networks distributes power from the national power grid to consumers throughout the Waikato region, which includes Kirikiriroa-Hamilton. The company is owned by WEL Community Trust, and the Trust, in turn, returns an annual dividend to consumers in the form of a credit on their electricity bill.
What made the email so unusual is that I can’t remember ever getting one like it. In the past, WEL would drop notices in our letterboxes if there was going to be a planned interruption in electricity supply, but I think that was back when most of the area I live in was still under construction. It’s been a very long time since I received a leaflet about interruptions, and that’s probably why they’re quite rare now. If my electricity supplier hadn’t sent that email, I might well have ended up surprised when the power is switched off in April, with no idea why it was off. Because I don’t get power bills by mail anymore, an email was the only way the supplier could warn me.
When I read the email, I hoped that “9am and 4pm” means sometime between those hours, and not the entire 7 hours, but I have no way of knowing. They also advised, “Before the planned outage, please make sure you disconnect all electrical equipment,” which really just means switching them off at the wall (in New Zealand, power points/wall outlets all have individual on/off switches for each outlet). That’s good advice for sensitive things like TVs and computers, and anything that’s always on, like fridges. When the power has gone out unexpectedly, usually because of storms, I always switch those items off at the wall to protect them when the power comes back on.
Another part of the email was for households where someone “depends on electricity for critical medical support”, as the email put it, and such folks were advised that they can contact their electricity company to see what their options are. I'd have thought that people with critical medical equipment would already have a contingency plan (I certainly would), but power companies are required to help those who don’t.
Hamilton City Council doesn’t send any kind of notices of work being done in the area, like tree trimming, weed spraying on Council land, or, even worse, when the water is going to be shut off for any scheduled reason. HCC hardly ever even posts alerts on their Facebook page, so pretty much everything they do is a surprise, which isn’t ideal.
I was glad that I was sent that email, and it’s even better that we got nearly a month’s advance warning of a power outage (when I say “we”, that’s mostly because I posted about this on our community Facebook Page, partly because I have no idea whether other electricity companies sent notices to their customers, nor whether others read such emails). I added the event to my calendar, of course, so I can remember it’s happening, because I’d certainly be unlikely to remember otherwise. This way, when it happens, I can be prepared—devices fully charged, coffee made before 9am, those sorts of things, because my solar panels don't have battery backup.
So, thanks to that unusual email, I should be set. I guess knowledge really is power.
Wednesday, March 25, 2026
A cleaning work-around
Most people have tips and tricks they use for household chores, especially cleaning. Some people share those on social media, and it turns out that many of those shared things actually work—and others definitely do not. This isn't about an actual tip or tick, but an adaptation I’ve made to make one particular cleaning task easier—even if it might not sound like it does.
As I’ve said before, Leo tracks in grass clippings every time he comes back inside—and so do I, for that matter, but he goes outside several times a day and I don’t. When I mow the lawn, it only takes a couple days before the carpet in the living area is covered with various sizes of clippings, including longer weed clippings that the line trummer lopped off (I leave them where they fall in the hope they might help kill off the weeds; I’ll clean it all up this winter when they hardly grow).
The problem is that those clippings, especially the long ones, fill up the vacuum quickly, or even cause a clog. When I realised all that a few years ago, I’d walk around and pick-up the long pieces—which hurt my back, of course.
Back at our previous house, I bought one of those “grabber” things, with pincers at the end operated by a squeeze handle, and that because of baby Leo: He had a habit of taking his toys under our super-king bed, and leave them in the middle where I couldn’t reach them, and there wasn’t enough room for me to crawl under the bed. I could grab his toy with the grabber, and then hand the toy to a very happy Leo—who would carry it back under the bed sooner or later (he eventually stopped doing that, but if he does it now, he still forgets he did that…).
The grabber has been handy for me whenever I drop something that falls into a difficult-to-get-to place, so it was logical for me to use it to pick up the big bits of grass and weeds—and bits of stuffing that Leo pulls out of his toys. The photo above shows the results of my recent hunting expedition, posed on a source of (most of) the troublesome debris.
When I’m done hunting, I vacuum as normal, and it always goes better and faster than it would if I didn’t do the hunting. Different vacuums might work differently, but the one I use (which I bought around six months ago) is awesome, and my pre-vacuuming chore means I don’t need to empty the dust bin as often.
If this wasn’t weird enough for some people, there’s this: Picking up the larger debris manually is oddly satisfying. It’s quiet (no vacuum is…), and I’m never tempted to move fast as I am when I vacuum. It’s quieter, slower, even more leisurely, than any other cleaning chore that I do, and it’s kind of nice to have that sometimes. Still, even I don’t do it every week, but when I do I never regret it.
To each their own!
As I’ve said before, Leo tracks in grass clippings every time he comes back inside—and so do I, for that matter, but he goes outside several times a day and I don’t. When I mow the lawn, it only takes a couple days before the carpet in the living area is covered with various sizes of clippings, including longer weed clippings that the line trummer lopped off (I leave them where they fall in the hope they might help kill off the weeds; I’ll clean it all up this winter when they hardly grow).
The problem is that those clippings, especially the long ones, fill up the vacuum quickly, or even cause a clog. When I realised all that a few years ago, I’d walk around and pick-up the long pieces—which hurt my back, of course.
Back at our previous house, I bought one of those “grabber” things, with pincers at the end operated by a squeeze handle, and that because of baby Leo: He had a habit of taking his toys under our super-king bed, and leave them in the middle where I couldn’t reach them, and there wasn’t enough room for me to crawl under the bed. I could grab his toy with the grabber, and then hand the toy to a very happy Leo—who would carry it back under the bed sooner or later (he eventually stopped doing that, but if he does it now, he still forgets he did that…).
The grabber has been handy for me whenever I drop something that falls into a difficult-to-get-to place, so it was logical for me to use it to pick up the big bits of grass and weeds—and bits of stuffing that Leo pulls out of his toys. The photo above shows the results of my recent hunting expedition, posed on a source of (most of) the troublesome debris.
When I’m done hunting, I vacuum as normal, and it always goes better and faster than it would if I didn’t do the hunting. Different vacuums might work differently, but the one I use (which I bought around six months ago) is awesome, and my pre-vacuuming chore means I don’t need to empty the dust bin as often.
If this wasn’t weird enough for some people, there’s this: Picking up the larger debris manually is oddly satisfying. It’s quiet (no vacuum is…), and I’m never tempted to move fast as I am when I vacuum. It’s quieter, slower, even more leisurely, than any other cleaning chore that I do, and it’s kind of nice to have that sometimes. Still, even I don’t do it every week, but when I do I never regret it.
To each their own!
Tuesday, March 24, 2026
A well-meaning fail
Not every project I take on works out, but all of them begin with good intentions. Recently I tried a project with the best of intentions, but it didn’t pan out. Even so, I don’t regret a thing.
The background is simple: Leo will turn nine in a few months, and I’ve noticed that as he’s grown older, he’s had more trouble jumping onto furniture, like our bed. To be honest, I think some of it is performative, because if I walk over to lift him up, he suddenly manages to jump up on the bed, or whatever. Even so, he’s a little guy about to turn nine, and, just like me, he’ll need some minor alterations to things to make his ageing easier.
I thought that there was something I could do to help him, and I designed something a kind of steps to but at the foot of the bed. I imagined a three-tier thing with storage in each tier. It’d be strong enough for me to sit on, like wooden the blanket box that’s there right now. However, the Garage of No Return doesn’t have enough room for me to build anything, and I don’t know when that will change.
It was then that I found a four-tier step system (the bottom of the two photos at left; the blanket box I was using before is the top half) that I thought would work. It’s a bit smaller than what I designed, but I thought that the four steps would make it easier for Leo. Each “step” is actually a soft-sided storage box, and each step is attached to the next-smaller step using a zip (aka zipper) on the front and back. The zips were a little tricky to fasten, but assembly was otherwise straightforward
And that was the end of the success. Leo wouldn’t step on any step, and wouldn’t jump onto a high one like he did on the old blanket box (below, right). I tried to lead him up the steps, but his reaction was as if he thought I was trying to hurt him. He didn’t “get” how to walk up stairs. He’s a smart little guy, so this puzzled me—after all, we had stair in the last house we all had together.
Yeah, well, I often forget how much time has passed since then. He lived in that house for 19 months (beginning shortly before his first birthday, and we moved away when he was 19 months old). I can’t remember how often he went up and down stairs at the old house, but we left that house more than six years ago, and we’ve lived in this one-storey house ever since.
I know that it may have nothing to do with his past, but that the small stairs I bought for him may not have felt safe to him. So, I put the old blanket box back with just a blanket on top of it (making the top he jumps onto a centimetre or so lower than it had been).I moved the fancy steps over to the other side of the bed and put some of his toys on higher steps: He’s never tried to get them, not even when I put his favourite toy on it. I think that if the steps were more conventional, he might’ve been more willing to use it—or, at least, not as frightened of it as he seemed to be, but it it what it is.
This means I’m probably back to building something for him. Right now I think it should have a wide lower step for him to step onto, but I’ll have to create a temporary one to see if he uses it. We’ll see. The point is, just as I have various plans to make this house better for ageing me, I’ll make changes to make things easier for an ageing Leo, too. This particular attempt just wasn’t a good one. Oh, well—onward.
The background is simple: Leo will turn nine in a few months, and I’ve noticed that as he’s grown older, he’s had more trouble jumping onto furniture, like our bed. To be honest, I think some of it is performative, because if I walk over to lift him up, he suddenly manages to jump up on the bed, or whatever. Even so, he’s a little guy about to turn nine, and, just like me, he’ll need some minor alterations to things to make his ageing easier.
I thought that there was something I could do to help him, and I designed something a kind of steps to but at the foot of the bed. I imagined a three-tier thing with storage in each tier. It’d be strong enough for me to sit on, like wooden the blanket box that’s there right now. However, the Garage of No Return doesn’t have enough room for me to build anything, and I don’t know when that will change.
It was then that I found a four-tier step system (the bottom of the two photos at left; the blanket box I was using before is the top half) that I thought would work. It’s a bit smaller than what I designed, but I thought that the four steps would make it easier for Leo. Each “step” is actually a soft-sided storage box, and each step is attached to the next-smaller step using a zip (aka zipper) on the front and back. The zips were a little tricky to fasten, but assembly was otherwise straightforward
And that was the end of the success. Leo wouldn’t step on any step, and wouldn’t jump onto a high one like he did on the old blanket box (below, right). I tried to lead him up the steps, but his reaction was as if he thought I was trying to hurt him. He didn’t “get” how to walk up stairs. He’s a smart little guy, so this puzzled me—after all, we had stair in the last house we all had together.
Yeah, well, I often forget how much time has passed since then. He lived in that house for 19 months (beginning shortly before his first birthday, and we moved away when he was 19 months old). I can’t remember how often he went up and down stairs at the old house, but we left that house more than six years ago, and we’ve lived in this one-storey house ever since.
I know that it may have nothing to do with his past, but that the small stairs I bought for him may not have felt safe to him. So, I put the old blanket box back with just a blanket on top of it (making the top he jumps onto a centimetre or so lower than it had been).I moved the fancy steps over to the other side of the bed and put some of his toys on higher steps: He’s never tried to get them, not even when I put his favourite toy on it. I think that if the steps were more conventional, he might’ve been more willing to use it—or, at least, not as frightened of it as he seemed to be, but it it what it is.
This means I’m probably back to building something for him. Right now I think it should have a wide lower step for him to step onto, but I’ll have to create a temporary one to see if he uses it. We’ll see. The point is, just as I have various plans to make this house better for ageing me, I’ll make changes to make things easier for an ageing Leo, too. This particular attempt just wasn’t a good one. Oh, well—onward.
Monday, March 23, 2026
Seasonal changes
By anyone’s reckoning, New Zealand is now definitely in Autumn. The 2026 March Equinox arrived March 21 at 3:46am. Leo and I were asleep at the time, of course, and its arrival certainly didn’t wake us up, and yes, I’m being a bit sarcastic. As I’ve made clear, in this part of the world we use the first of the relevant month as the start of the seasons, and not the equinoxes and solstices later that month.
I’ve also pointed out how the weather changes when it changes, and it has little to do with whichever date one chooses for the start of seasons. This particular autumn has certainly followed that pattern: We’ve had quite summery weather this month, and a few days ago Kirikiriroa-Hamilton hit a very summery high of 27 degrees (80.6F). It’s also been rather dry, as summer is, and not rainy as part later in Autumn can be.
However, there are obvious changes. The photo up top, which I took this afternoon, shows the tree on my street that s been in many of my photos over the years. That tree has an increasing number of yellow leaves, which means we’re not far from seeing the leaves leave. I’m not happy about that—just like every other year, of course.
Still, this particular season isn’t all bad. The cooler weather means the grass—and the weeds—don’t grow as quickly. This makes autumn (and early spring) the best times to clear out weeds, as I still need to do. It also means that the garage won’t be as hot as it is in summer, and that means I can work in there. Meanwhile, the rest of the house doesn’t need cooling quite as much, and doesn’t yet need heating, so I don’t sweat as much doing projects in the house—and it’s getting close to the all-too-brief time when I can open the windows—using my new window screens!
My list of projects to do (or just complete) is still very long—probably inhumanly so. The seasonal weather change may make projects physically easier to do, but it certainly doesn’t guarantee I’ll make any progress on any of them, let alone finish any. And yet: Every day is another opportunity to succeed, and it that doesn’t happen that day, then maybe the next one.
Honestly, though, I really do prefer that tree with it’s summer outfit on.
I’ve also pointed out how the weather changes when it changes, and it has little to do with whichever date one chooses for the start of seasons. This particular autumn has certainly followed that pattern: We’ve had quite summery weather this month, and a few days ago Kirikiriroa-Hamilton hit a very summery high of 27 degrees (80.6F). It’s also been rather dry, as summer is, and not rainy as part later in Autumn can be.
However, there are obvious changes. The photo up top, which I took this afternoon, shows the tree on my street that s been in many of my photos over the years. That tree has an increasing number of yellow leaves, which means we’re not far from seeing the leaves leave. I’m not happy about that—just like every other year, of course.
Still, this particular season isn’t all bad. The cooler weather means the grass—and the weeds—don’t grow as quickly. This makes autumn (and early spring) the best times to clear out weeds, as I still need to do. It also means that the garage won’t be as hot as it is in summer, and that means I can work in there. Meanwhile, the rest of the house doesn’t need cooling quite as much, and doesn’t yet need heating, so I don’t sweat as much doing projects in the house—and it’s getting close to the all-too-brief time when I can open the windows—using my new window screens!
My list of projects to do (or just complete) is still very long—probably inhumanly so. The seasonal weather change may make projects physically easier to do, but it certainly doesn’t guarantee I’ll make any progress on any of them, let alone finish any. And yet: Every day is another opportunity to succeed, and it that doesn’t happen that day, then maybe the next one.
Honestly, though, I really do prefer that tree with it’s summer outfit on.
Sunday, March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5
Another week, and it’s another one-week Number One. Wait, another one-week Number One, the week after a different one-week hit? What is this, 1985? Just kidding—I’m actually glad the pace of the 1986 hits has been slower.
Be that as it may, on March 22, 1986 the new Number One song was “These Dreams” (video up top) by the American rock band Heart. The song was the third single from the group’s eighth studio album, “Heart”. “These Dreams” was also the band’s first Number One hit.
There’s an unusual bit of trivia about this song: This week’s song was wittern by Bernie Taupin and Martin Page, who also wrote the song in Part 23 of the 1985 series, “We Built This City” by Starship. They’re certainly very different songs.
Heart is group I really liked, and I liked this particular song, though it wasn't my favourite Heart song. I first became aware of the group because of a lot of TV commercials promoting their debut album, Dreamboat Annie. However, my connection with the band really started when their "Dog & Butterfly" tour (promoting the album of the same name) appeared at my university. There’s a little story about that.
My university’s arena, used mostly for basketball (go the Dawgs!—actually, I went to one game there), had a lot of concerts, too. However, in 1977, many weren’t exactly huge stars, but then they suddenly started programming bigger acts. In my first year at university, they hosted Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen, neither of whom I was interested in (though, decades later, I wished I’d seen Springsteen…). The first group I saw was Bad Company, who were promoting their new album, Desolation Angels (which I bought, but no longer have). I went because they were the first group that I was kinda, sorta, familiar with. But when Heart was there, I was really excited to see them. They performed songs from their first four albums.
Back to 1986, I have to admit that the video for “These Dreams” didn’t grab me (apparently a common thing for me in 1986… or, always?). I mean, it was okay, I guess, but it wasn’t one I was excited to see replayed. I was similarly indifferent to this song, and to me it was a pleasant background song with lead vocals by a singer I enjoyed. But—and even I’m surprised I thought this way—where were the rocking vocals I’d come to know Ann Wilson for doing? However, I think that in those days I probably would’ve listened to her sing the phone book (not a literal fact). Let’s just say my tastes are, and always have been, varied, shall we? Yes, let’s. The larger point here is that I really liked heart, and I thought this song was okay. That’s very often good enough for me, and while I remember very little of it (it was a long time agao…), I know I enjoyed it.
“These Dreams” reached Number 27 in Australia, 6 in Canada, 62 in the UK, and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and “Adult Contemporary” charts, and it reached Number 2 on their “Mainstream Rock” chart. It was also Number One on the Cash Box “Top 100” chart. The song apparently didn’t chart in New Zealand, but it was nevertheless certified Gold, and the linked Wikipedia article doesn’t provide any sales certification information for any other country. No idea what that means.
The album Heart reached Number 37 in Australia, Number 3 in Canada (6x Platinum), Number 19 in the UK (Gold), and Number 1 on the USA’s “Billboard 200” (5x Platinum). The album was certified Platinum in the USA. The album didn’t chart in New Zealand.
This series will return next week, on March 29, with the next new Number One from 1986, and it's NOT another one-week hit! But it IS one I liked a lot.
Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Be that as it may, on March 22, 1986 the new Number One song was “These Dreams” (video up top) by the American rock band Heart. The song was the third single from the group’s eighth studio album, “Heart”. “These Dreams” was also the band’s first Number One hit.
There’s an unusual bit of trivia about this song: This week’s song was wittern by Bernie Taupin and Martin Page, who also wrote the song in Part 23 of the 1985 series, “We Built This City” by Starship. They’re certainly very different songs.
Heart is group I really liked, and I liked this particular song, though it wasn't my favourite Heart song. I first became aware of the group because of a lot of TV commercials promoting their debut album, Dreamboat Annie. However, my connection with the band really started when their "Dog & Butterfly" tour (promoting the album of the same name) appeared at my university. There’s a little story about that.
My university’s arena, used mostly for basketball (go the Dawgs!—actually, I went to one game there), had a lot of concerts, too. However, in 1977, many weren’t exactly huge stars, but then they suddenly started programming bigger acts. In my first year at university, they hosted Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen, neither of whom I was interested in (though, decades later, I wished I’d seen Springsteen…). The first group I saw was Bad Company, who were promoting their new album, Desolation Angels (which I bought, but no longer have). I went because they were the first group that I was kinda, sorta, familiar with. But when Heart was there, I was really excited to see them. They performed songs from their first four albums.
Back to 1986, I have to admit that the video for “These Dreams” didn’t grab me (apparently a common thing for me in 1986… or, always?). I mean, it was okay, I guess, but it wasn’t one I was excited to see replayed. I was similarly indifferent to this song, and to me it was a pleasant background song with lead vocals by a singer I enjoyed. But—and even I’m surprised I thought this way—where were the rocking vocals I’d come to know Ann Wilson for doing? However, I think that in those days I probably would’ve listened to her sing the phone book (not a literal fact). Let’s just say my tastes are, and always have been, varied, shall we? Yes, let’s. The larger point here is that I really liked heart, and I thought this song was okay. That’s very often good enough for me, and while I remember very little of it (it was a long time agao…), I know I enjoyed it.
“These Dreams” reached Number 27 in Australia, 6 in Canada, 62 in the UK, and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and “Adult Contemporary” charts, and it reached Number 2 on their “Mainstream Rock” chart. It was also Number One on the Cash Box “Top 100” chart. The song apparently didn’t chart in New Zealand, but it was nevertheless certified Gold, and the linked Wikipedia article doesn’t provide any sales certification information for any other country. No idea what that means.
The album Heart reached Number 37 in Australia, Number 3 in Canada (6x Platinum), Number 19 in the UK (Gold), and Number 1 on the USA’s “Billboard 200” (5x Platinum). The album was certified Platinum in the USA. The album didn’t chart in New Zealand.
This series will return next week, on March 29, with the next new Number One from 1986, and it's NOT another one-week hit! But it IS one I liked a lot.
Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
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