I was sitting here staring at the screen, trying to decide what should be the topic du jour, and realized that I have absolutely nothing profound to say today. I probably have very little that’s profound on any given day, but you never know when something that seems irrelevant might turn out to be massively fascinating to someone else. I mean, back when Ben Franklin was sitting around making up one-liners for Poor Richard, do you think he obsessed about whether or not people would be quoting him a couple of hundred years down the road? Of course not. He was just trying to fill a column inch or two.
So for inspiration, I decided to grab the Shuffle and just see what would be the first song that came up. After all, my whole premise for starting this blog is that music is a personal thing to me. I connect with my music in much the same way that I connect with my friends. Surely, almost any song that I’ve chosen to add to my iPod is bound to inspire me. Maybe it’s symbolic, maybe it’s associated with a particular memory, has some special meaning in my life. Something really profound.
So, I turn on this magic music machine, and…. Buckcherry is singing Crazy Bitch.
OK, I love the song. The whole album, for that matter. But somehow, this particular song doesn’t seem especially profound. And I already know, there are way too many members of the peanut gallery that are going to be tempted to make the connection between song title and blog author. (Go ahead, take your best shot.)
But oddly enough, I do actually have a memory associated with the song. I don’t get to enjoy music at work too often, because I’m usually answering phones all day, but there are occasions, and those lovely little iPod earbuds are a wonderful invention. I can listen to whatever I want without worrying about whether my taste in music is acceptable to my co-workers.
Yes, I was enjoying the tunes and typing away, when I looked up to see my manager leaning over my cubicle wall with a big ole shit-eatin’ grin on his face. I paused the music to ask if there was something I could help him with, only to hear, “Did you know that you sing along with your iPod?” Was I? I wasn’t even thinking about it. What was I sing—-oh, shit. Yeah. So much for not offending the co-workers.
Break me down, you got a lovely face
We’re going to your place
And now you got to freak me out….