A little taste of my own medicine
These past two years at UofC I jockied into the position of music tyrant and i have jamboxes in every room forcing everyone I work with to become part of the swab-the-decks crew of the vessel sailing the seas of sad bastard. Owen yup. Pedro the lion ,shut your yapper this is sad, yes. Belle and Sebastian, kings of the sadness tour, yeah.
Today things worked a little differently. I walk into lab with a few cd's, one being the first sea and cake ready to expel musical notes to carry my every muscle and joint into harmony. This morning, however, 93.9 was blasting to which I believe a coup d'etat. Lets just say the light was on but no one was 97.1 driving. First one to send shivers down my spine was, "lets hear it for the boys." I felt like I was stuck at a cubs opener or maybe a soccer mom prep music mix tape to cut oranges to.
I need a parachute or at least a titantic escape boat.
"I can feel you breathing, I can feel da da da insert high note"
I'm not sure who thats by, melissa etheridge or something. But I've lost I'm reduced to nothing. That single incident has turned me into the stapler guy from Office Space. I might as well be in the basement without the LIGHT on.
But then right there in my darkest hour, Imagine came on. I was cold shivering in fetal position and opened my eyes for the first time since my plunge into the abyss. I began to question everything under the sun. Were dogs and cats now friends, is there peace suddenly in Iraq, does bush read at a fifth grade level? All questions that began pacing through my head. And no religion too.
Today things worked a little differently. I walk into lab with a few cd's, one being the first sea and cake ready to expel musical notes to carry my every muscle and joint into harmony. This morning, however, 93.9 was blasting to which I believe a coup d'etat. Lets just say the light was on but no one was 97.1 driving. First one to send shivers down my spine was, "lets hear it for the boys." I felt like I was stuck at a cubs opener or maybe a soccer mom prep music mix tape to cut oranges to.
I need a parachute or at least a titantic escape boat.
"I can feel you breathing, I can feel da da da insert high note"
I'm not sure who thats by, melissa etheridge or something. But I've lost I'm reduced to nothing. That single incident has turned me into the stapler guy from Office Space. I might as well be in the basement without the LIGHT on.
But then right there in my darkest hour, Imagine came on. I was cold shivering in fetal position and opened my eyes for the first time since my plunge into the abyss. I began to question everything under the sun. Were dogs and cats now friends, is there peace suddenly in Iraq, does bush read at a fifth grade level? All questions that began pacing through my head. And no religion too.
3 Comments:
You may say that I'm a dreamer. But I'm not the only one. Nightmares of sad bastard danceless halls haunt me. Ex. Deathcab + MM show = Me the only dancing fool in a crowd of the too hip emo thick rimmed glasses and cardigans punks. Who says happy is bad?
k.e.
Love the cubs reference, something about lite fm that reminds me of the cubs. They should combine stations with wgn.
the lab music battles have existed since mendel's assitant decided to chant one day and mendel was like "what's going on? i'm the only one who chants... and what is this crap he's chanting?"
reminds me of when I'm in the lab alone whistling at the top of my lips and some other fucker walks in and starts whistling too. pisses me off and i just grumble under my breath.
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