I’ve been on a huge music kick lately, so in that spirit below is my list of the top 10 rock n’ roll voices of all time.

Now, to clarify … this list is strictly narrowed to Rock n’ Roll, so there are no pop, soul or R&B singers here. Granted, there are some cross-over artists, and you can certainly make cases that someone does or doesn’t belong in one category or another, but before you start screaming that Aretha Franklin isn’t on this list … of course she’s one of the greatest singers ever … but for this one list, I don’t consider her a strict Rock n’ Roll singer.

Also, this list of singers unto itself does not necessarily match which artists or bands I consider the best ever, nor does it take into account production values, song writing or number of “hits.” This is purely about which Rock n’ Roll voices I never get tired of hearing.

Okay. Enough with the wind up. Below is my list. Let the debate begin:

10: Jim Morrison: His pagan ways graveled up his voice over the last album or two, but the former Doors front man had such a soothing, haunting vocal range that transported me time again. Whether The End, Touch Me or Riders on the Storm, Mr. Mojo Rison was the Dionysian Rock n’ Roll guide of all time.

9. Stevie Nicks: The gypsy queen of rock. There’s no one else quite like Stevie. Edge of 17, Rhiannon, Landslide. That’s Hall of Fame right there.

8. Chris Daughtry: If there’s a modern day singer with a more BOOMIN’ voice, I haven’t heard it. And as powerful as he sounds on record, hear him live. I stood literally five feet from him at a recent performance, and my teeth are still rattling. Wow. This dude has a loooong career ahead of him. A once-in-a-generation voice.

7. Chris Cornell: The second coming of Robert Plant, Chris Cornell has that rare of combination of power and vocal range like a creature from Lord of the Rings. From Soundgarden to Audioslave, he’s one singer that always makes me stop and take notice.

6. Pat Benatar: Powerful, sexy and a growl to match. As fierce as they come. Shadows of the Night still stops me in my tracks.

5. Steve Perry: You might argue that Journey is more pop than rock, but I don’t care. This guy hits notes so loud, high and strong it defies logic. Anyone who says that at least now and again they haven’t done a little fist raising when this guy signs, is flat out lying.

4. Ann Wilson: She had me at Barracuda.

3. Grace Slick: Jefferson Airplane/Starship whatever had its share of highs and lows, but Grace Slick had a voice that made the Concord stop mid-flight to ask what the hell they just heard. Pure wow. White Rabbit still has some of the trippiest, haunting vocals ever.

2. Robert Plant: From Stairway to Heaven to the Immigrant Song, this Led Zeppelin front man had maybe the most howling voice of all time.

1. Freddie Mercury: With that operatic power and style, Freddy Mercury is the hands down winner. For me, it’s Freddy and then everyone else. Just watch him perform Radio Gaga at Live Aid and you’ll remember just how incredible he was.

Honorable mentions: Axel Rose, Roger Daltrey, Elvis, Scott Weiland, Chris Robinson, Steven Tyler, Chrissie Hynde

In THE ART OF SELFISHNESS, author David Seabury talks, fundamentally, about the difference between what we’ll call productive selfishness and destructive selfishness. And after reading his book, and talking about with some folks about it, I believe that understanding those differences–and then acting accordingly–can have a remarkable positive impact on ours lives.

Productive Selfishness: Let’s say a friend asks you to help him move. He’s a pretty good friend, and you really want to help him out. You’re not necessarily excited about moving furniture, but you figure it’s the kind of thing your friend would do for you if the situations were reversed.

But truth is, you’re physically tired from a long couple of weeks at work. You’ve been feeling pretty run down lately and it’s been getting worse, and you just need a weekend to yourself to recuperate. You also feel that if you exert yourself now, you may take a legitimate turn for the worse. So you tell your friend that you won’t be able to help him move.

And then he guilts you. “Come on, dude. Help me out. You know I’d totally help you. It’ll only take a few hours. Otherwise I’ll be at this all day by myself or it’ll cost me a fortune to hire movers.”

So what should you do? The answer is, it depends. But I think Seabury would argue that while you might feel on some level that helping your friend is a good thing to do–that you’re being a good friend–if it compromises your well-being or your values to a degree that would be more harmful to you than it would be helpful to your friend, then you should say no, even if your friend gives you grief about it. This is an example of productive selfishness.

Of course, every situation is different; there’s no one size fits all. We need to consider all factors and then make the best decision we can.

But I think that we have been conditioned over the generations to often let guilt dictate our actions, and to worry about what other people will think about us. Far too often we put what other people want ahead of what’s best for us. We compromise our values, thinking that we’re doing so for a good reason. And sometimes making a sacrifice is the right thing to do. It can be difficult to know what the best decision is. But I think it’s extremely important that we understand–and legitimately believe–that saying no is an absolutely acceptable option. Knowing when to say no is the tricky part.

It’s something I’ve struggled with for many, many years, especially when I was younger. I’ve gotten a far better handle on it now, but it can still be a tough one for me. And being a dad now, I can only image what’s coming.

Destructive Selfishness: Here’s a true story. When I was in college my fraternity (don’t judge) had a spaghetti lunch one weekend. We held it at my apartment. Basically, we just made mounds of pasta and had a meal together. To accompany our pasta, we also bought a couple of bags of garlic bread that you heat up in the broiler. Naturally, everybody wanted a piece, and there was only so much to go around.

One guy who, we’ll call Fred, was first in line in the kitchen (sort of no surprise there). So I served him up a plate of spaghetti, and put a piece of garlic bread on his plate. And then he grabbed another one. When I told him that it was only one to a customer, he got aggressive with me. I told him to put one piece back. We argued. Finally, he walked away with only piece.

Had there been far more bread than people, I wouldn’t have cared that he took another piece of bread. But he knew there was only enough bread for each person to get one piece. He knew that, and tried to take a second piece anyway.

Nothing good came from Fred’s selfishness here. Had he taken two pieces, then someone else wouldn’t have gotten any. And even though he ultimately put the second piece back, his selfishness, and then his subsequent attempts to justify his selfishness, added stress to what was supposed to be a fun day, and also demonstrated that he was far more interested in what he wanted than in being equitable. Beyond that, trying to scam a second piece of garlic bread is just so petty that it inherently lowers the quality of the experience on its face.

This is destructive selfishness.  Fred thought only of himself–and acted accordingly–in a way that was harmful to others, and, really, to himself.

Overall, I’d say I’ve done a fairly good job over the years of descerning when and where to be productive selfishness, but life has a funny way of reminding me that I’ll be tested every day on this one, and that the moment I think I’ve got it licked is the day I’ll get it wrong.

(note: the original version of this blog ran January 23, 2007).

Coming off an inconsistent — and in my opinion — overrated season 1, I was still mildly optimistic heading into the sophomore season of The Good Wife. With the wrap of season 2, I can now call myself a convert. The show is still prone to some goofy and unnecessary plotting, but season 2 was a satisfying ride that got better and better as it went along. The Good Wife is now, essentially, Grey’s Anatomy, but this time that action centers on a few Chicago lawyers, with good looking people doing naughty things while trying, with varying degrees of success, to retain their occasionally questionable souls.

What Works: Once again, the chemistry between the characters rules the day. Having made the very wise choice to abandon some of the “procedural” aspects of the show in favor of the juicy characters, The Good Wife became far more focused and driven, delivering generally excellent performances all around. The will-they-or-won’t-they between Julianna Marguiles’ Alicia Florek and (personal favorite) Josh Charles’ Will Gardner was there all season, while Chris Noth’s possibly reformed Peter Florek ran for re-election for State’s Attorney while also trying to reclaim his family. Alan Cumming as campaign manager Eli Gold was a welcomed presence of sometimes icky wisdom, humor and, in a very strange way, humanity. And the always mysterious Kalinda as the law firm’s investigator hit new highs (or lows, depending on how you look at it), pushing Alicia to the point of deciding once and for all whether she really is “The Good Wife.”

What Doesn’t: The legal plots are still boiler plate. The death row inmate looking for a last-minute pardon? The unscrupulous insurance company? Ho-hum. Been there, done that. And despite the quick pace of the episodes, the cases get resolved way too fast, challenging their credibility. One of my biggest pet peeves comes in the form of the “quirky” judges, which seems utterly implausible. One? Maybe. But almost every judge seems like a cartoon character with bizarrely exaggerated traits, which is painful to watch when the show is based on, in theory, the real-world legal system. The show also struggles to keep Alicia’s children in the mix, forcing her son’s very bad and unlikable/sorta girlfriend into the frame, just to stir up trouble.

Final Thoughts: As a popcorn show, The Good Wife is a tasty treat. There’s no high art here, just a pulpy, semi-trashy workplace drama that mixes law, politics, family, sex and love, and for the most part leaves the viewer wanting more at the end of each episode. The Good Wife looks good, moves fast and is littered with quality actors who bring layers to their roles. I still hold out hope the silliness will dissipate in coming seasons, but even if not, The Good Wife is addictive, watchable TV that I look forward to week in and week out.

Season 2 Score: 8 Stars out of 10