Thursday, December 07, 2006

Our science experiment goes awry. We blame roasted beans

Today was to be the day where I went 24 hours without music. I'd forgotten, of course, until my roommate reminded me while I was snatching my iPod from the kitchen counter. "Isn't today the day you can't listen to music?" she asked. "GRrbjadbljskj" I mumbled, still forty minutes from my first cup of coffee.

It started well enough: I was on one of those buses that resembles an Indian subway more than a San Franciscan commuter bus (sadly though: no monkeys) and I couldn't hear any Eminem overflowing out the earphones of some pre-pubescent quasi-hard-ass. Sure I was stepping on some large gentleman's foot while enduring the surprisingly pointy elbow of a rotund grandma, but the bus was to be one of the great no-music-for-a-day challenges. I can regulate the atmosphere of my house and my office is a soulless wasteland, so all I had to do was travel between those two places in relative silence and success would be mine. Or, so I thought.

Our rolling sardine mobile stopped on 3rd street and I walked down the alley that takes me toward my office, trying to enjoy the early morning chill and vague aroma of urine. "Coffee," said my brain. "Yes, brain," said my mouth. "We're almost there." And, unthinkingly, I walked into the cafe where I usually start my morning and---John Mellencamp. Of all people. And it wasn't even Jack & Diane. No, it was one of those other "Look, I'm really a lot like Springsteen" "songs" that our Mr. Mellencamp foists upon the unsuspecting radio universe. That is, when he's not scoring flabbergastingly offensive Chevy commercials. Badness abounded.

So, attempt number one lasted about an hour until unbridled Mellencamp flavored failure but I learned a lesson I thought I'd realized, namely: you can't go shopping and avoid music. Attempt two will involve a sack lunch and the soil-flavored work-coffee.

The nice part was I forsaw the probable lack of success and brought my iPod anyhow. Either that or I was too groggy to fully comprehend what my roomie was saying. Serendipitous nonetheless. I say this because, when you get denied by Corporate Springsteen, it's best to wash the taste out of your earholes as fast as humanly possible. I put on that "Pillar of Salt" song by The Thermals (this week's front runner for "Best Song in the Universe"---sorry Beethoven's Ninth) and everything was alright all over again.

5 comments:

Sabrina said...

You know this is impossible. Music is everywhere. Plus it's the Christmas season. Jingle Bells is being hummed on every corner! What you need is a good pair of ear plugs!
Mellencamp, EEEWWWWE!Finally a singer I can't stand that you do not love! Finally....

birdmonster said...

Sabrina: I have faith success is possible. At worst, I'll go live in a cave somewhere. With John Mellencamp. Except I'll have stuffed an ether rag in his mouth.

elvette said...

I think you're gonna have to invoke the five second rule on this one.

If you step into the cafe and hear music, or the bus driver is singing, you have five seconds to get out. If you choose to stay that's another story.

Sabrina said...

I couldn't go a day without music. I have not joined the 21st century by buying an Ipod but I do listen here at work. As well as in the car, to and from the BART station. I'm so glad I'm able to stream Live 105 through my desktop.
*I just won Panic at the Disco tix for Sydnie & Casey last week. The girls were so excited to go to their concert this last Tuesday. Casey was bummed after the show though, She just kept saying ... It's not like a Birdmonster show!
While cleaning up her room, I just found out that Casey keeps a Birdmonster encounter log. Each show she is able to attend she hand writes details about the venue, who was there, what she saw, what you guys played and what you guys said to her. It's a bit obssesive but cute! Can't wait for Bottom of the Hill

*In the event that you ever had to go into hiding with Mellencamp. I'll supply the ether! If not sedated you may end up joining in and singing the Little Ditty.
I hate myself for knowing this...

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