My music set update is plodding along. Some Maroon 5 and Avril Lavigne. The bass lines, well, they are mostly retard bass (repetitive root notes), and the argument does not hold that the musicians are young and inexperienced. These are 30-somethings, not the teenagers of the early rock era. The lack of [musical] turnarounds reflects a further lack of musical imagination. I’m willing to swear some of these tunes became hits only because nothing else came along at the time. It worked for Jackson. But this music is now 32% of my list. Such gems as “Zombie” by the Tran, er pardon me, Cranberries, that’s CRANberries.I’ve been noticing the electric wheelchair ads on TV. No, I don’t need a wheelchair, it is the content of the offer that I find alluring. They are saying they guaranty you get the chair “at little or no cost”. Most of the testimonials seem to be from people who would not need a wheelchair if they’d simply walk around a little. Or get a bicycle. So it is not the chair they are selling. That intrigues me. They are openly ripping off the health insurance system to make such an offer. That double intrigues me. My loss of experience with the American system due to those 15 years I spent at the phone company still causes me immeasurable regrets to this day. As they say on “Mad Men”, what time isn’t it?
Another TV program that lets the world know most Yankees got their hats on backward is “Rock Star Wives”. Have you seen that piece of work? Seriously, their wives. They got one quote right – being a rock star is an excuse to never grow up. Call me back when they have a show “Rock Star Groupies Less than 26 and Under 140 Pounds”. But Alice Cooper’s gag-me-with-a-spoon wife? Give me a break.
Genie has invited me to an open mic or jam at the Octopus, I’ll chose the jam even though she insists I bring my own amp. (A spare PA channel works for fine.) Plus at an open mic, she always wants to play “Hotel California”, which, don’t get me wrong, is a great tune to listen to. As opposed to stomp, drink, dance, and party to. Not being upper middle class or lower upper class, the song has no messages for me. (I lower middle class but without the extraneous material possessions and accompanying debt load that the weaklings use to pretend they are better than each other.) I simply do not identify with the song and find it boring. I stay in hotels because I’m tired, no other reason, certainly not a lifestyle.
I’ve decided against another $20 camera for the moment. Instead, I’m using a camcorder in still mode. Nothing on the shelves seems to compare well with my trusty old Argus. I’ve also learned to avoid digital cameras that don’t have a removable data disk because it is too easy to misplace the often-specialized cables required for a USB connection. So a camera is back in the picture, ha ha. The downside of using such a device just to snap jpegs is the cost, as they eat batteries.
ADDENDUM
Several sources on the Internet are playing down the number of protesters in DC last Saturday. Places like ABC are saying there were only 70-80,000 marchers. Say what you want, I am one of the few around who knows exactly what a million looks like. I share the same questions: why was a protest of this magnitude not front-page news everywhere? Some estimates are saying the crowd was as many as two million. Yet not a peep from the major news networks. Something is disturbing about the whole coverup.
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