Okay, so I think the iPod in my head is broken… or some pod gnome has broken the tamper-proof seal and found a way to make the shuffle go back to one song, every day, at least 5 times and sometimes stick it on repeat so I can’t get it off. The worst is that it chooses the worst songs ever! The past three weeks have been mostly Journey with a sprinkling of other selected gems. Quite a combo when you get (wait for it, wait for it…..) oh yeah Wheel in the Sky that keeps on turnin’ in your frikin head! And ya know, I’ve heard this song the better part of my life and didn’t know until now that the first verse contains the line: Sent a letter on a long summer day, Made of silver, not of clay… wtf? does this mean anyway? The letter is made of silver? I’m really not that dense nor do I have issues with metaphor but huh???? Anyhow, maybethe little gremlins just want me to go round and round with the dichotomy between silver and clay and that neither are materials for wheels in the sky. Whatever… Tomorrow I know I’ll be working instead of playing and it didn’t take a wheel to figure it out. Then there is Mr. Roboto. because you know, he is a modren man, (secret, secret, he’s got a secret). Maybe the little bastards are trying to tell me something beyond the fact that Styx sucked and Dennis DeYoung was either way fucked up on something potent or just really, really weird. Maybe I just need a secret or I need to play robot and go do some menial labor… Regardless, Domo Aregato I need a beer-o . Add to all of this (oh yes, the piece de resistance – did I spell that with a snotty French accent??) Think keyboard, think synthesizer – do-do-do-do. do-da-do-do-do. do-do-do-do. do-da-do-do-do-da-do… are ya there, do you feel it yet… oh yes. The long curly blondish hair with the shiny lip gloss and bright blue eyes that scream – I am all that is 1986. It’s The Final Countdown just pops up randomly cutting off a Johnny Cash song or Weezer or something far cooler. (Oh that it would cut off Styx, I’ll take Euro-glam over Styx) This is the only one of the three I could kinda, maybe, sort of understand getting lodged in my nogg. I used to be that evil person that would have the ring-back tone on my phone, you know “please enjoy the music while your party is reached”. I purposely chose something that was just not right and that song was the final countdown. I never had to hear it, so maybe this is my penance for that. But seriously… Mr. Roboto? You’re wondering who I am-machine or mannequin, With parts made in Japan, I am the modren man … Who spells modern like that? And I am not Kilroy… well maybe I am, that could be the secret (secret) hhhmmm I’ll have to think about that while the wheel in the sky counts down a final time today.
I might even take country
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