Random Musings

I am not really in the mood to compose one of my rambling diatribes, so I suppose I will stick to just creating three smaller ones. So what if that adds up to one long passage. I care not, so there.

There are billboards around here for the last month or so that make no sense to me. I have passed them over a hundred times, and it just confounds me more each time. It is for a local radio station that plays “workday music”, which really means they play music that is somehow able to keep most women from going postal yet manages to sterilise the poor men that have to work in the typical female-dominated office environment. Anyway, the billboard has the station call letters, its catchphrase, and then a picture of a high heel shoe followed by a gas hose. It then proclaims “Pick Your Pump!” Ok, I get the play on words that they are both pumps and that the gas pump is a poignant reference given our current oil prices. But, why would you have to choose one over the other, and how is this at all related to a radio station? The only thing I can think of is that they are saying you could walk instead of drive, but then you assuredly wouldn’t be using a
high heel. Or, they could instead be appealing to foot fetishists, as the image of the two pumps as shown is quite phallic in nature. Yeah, that is what I am going with.

Speaking of music, we have long been under the spell of the music industry. They tell us what to listen to, and the lemming-run radio stations thus make it popular. Anyway, the most distressing part is that many of the absolute worst songs of late continue to get stuck in my head. This is particularly true of songs sung by female vocalists. My brain is partial to such ones. They get stuck in there, like bubble gum in my hair, and I recite them incessantly – the whole time muttering under my breath how much the song and lyrics are stupid. Some examples? Katy Perry’s “I Kissed A Girl” (umm – didn’t Jill Soluble cover the same concept say about 15 years ago?), Miley Cyrus’ “See You Again” (does she really have a best friend named Leslie, or does that just work because it rhymes?), and Scarlett Johansson’s “Falling Down.” The new Coldplay song also lingers in my grey matter, and while Chris Martin is a dude, he has an androgynous name and sings
effeminately, so he can get lumped in too.

I went to the mall for lunch one day this week. We hit up the ole Chinese Buffet. This one is a lot classier than most, i.e. you can actually touch the table without risking losing a 2″ x 3″ swatch of arm skin, but they are missing the calling card of Chinese buffets. Yes, I am talking about the soft serve ice cream maker. It does not matter how much sodium I have crammed into my body, or how bloated I feel, I need a little bit of ice cream to wash it down. But, on the dessert bar this time they had bowl after bowl of a white creamy substance, and it was on ice. Sweet! So I finished my meal, grabbed one, took a big spoonful (consistency was appropriate) and it was some sort of pudding. Ugh. I was so set on ice cream that I thus had to walk into the mall to the Dairy Queen to fill my sweet tooth. As I entered the mall, two gentlemen walked past us and one repeated the following line twice “Ain’t nobody like a crackhead.” And his voice
inflection obviously meant like in the form of “be fond of” not “similar to.” And he looked like a (former) crackhead. Yeah, the ice cream tasted even better after hearing that.

Randomly yours,

2 thoughts on “Random Musings

  1. As weak as Scarlett’s album is, I would not lump it lyrically with Miley and Katy.

    The album is a cover album of Tom Waits’ songs and while Waits is an acquired taste vocally, I would certainly count him as one of the best lyricists on the past 30 years.

    Well I open my eyes, I was blind as can be
    When you give a man luck, he must fall in the sea
    And she wants you to steal and get caught
    For she loves you for all that you are not
    When you’re falling down, falling down
    When you’re falling down, falling down, falling down

    You forget all the roses, don’t come around on Sunday
    She’s not gonna choose you for standing so tall
    Go on and take a swig of that poison and like it
    And don’t ask for silverware, don’t ask for nothing
    Go on and put your ear to the ground
    You know you will be hearing that sound……falling down.
    You’re falling down, falling down
    Falling down, Falling down, falling down

    When you’re falling down, falling down, falling down

    Go on down and see that wrecking ball come swinging on along
    Everyone knew that hotel was a goner
    They broke all the windows, they took all the door knobs
    And they hauled it away in a couple of days
    Now someone yell timber and take off your hat
    It’s a lot smaller down here on the ground
    You’re falling down, falling down, falling down
    Falling down, falling down, falling down

    Someone’s falling down, falling down, falling down
    Falling down, falling down, falling down


  2. Understood that it is an album of cover songs – although a somewhat obscure person to pick, unless that was the intent…


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