Thursday, January 28, 2010

Like a good bottle of carbonated wine.

There are lots of things that remind me of how old I am. My wisdom, sophistication and maturity. My sagging, superfluous third nipple. My 1972 Stutz Blackhawk VI that I bought brand new when I was 53. And, of course, the Oops I Crapped My Pants adult diapers that I’m wearing (and utilizing) as I type this.

Music can be a good reminder as well.

I like to listen to a music format called “MP3” on the “iTunes.” I have over 60,000 songs that have set to shuffle on my electric computing device. While most of them fall into the Barbershop Quartet genre, occasionally I’ll hear one that doesn’t.

Today, I was taken back to college with the help of a song. And a large dose of mushrooms that I ate on the way to work this morning.

The song was "Divine Thing" by the Soup Dragons. It, along with songs by Jesus Jones, Ned’s Atomic Dustbin, and EMF fall into a small sub-genre of splatter-paint-sporting, college crap rock bands that I still think are fucking great. But only because they remind me of college. The music itself is kind of silly. But awesome.

There were crud loads of great bands that I was into during the early-to-mid 1990s. But it’s the cheesy frat rock that sends my chiseled, white ass streaking through the quad at the University of Memory Lane. In my mind.


  1. you should freestyle. in the club. without the dude whose birthday it is or chocolate milk for that matter. you are the man. i cant even send another text message until i find my textathaurus.