I climbed into the car after work today and this lovely tune started to play.
It was sublime.
Then things went south.
“From the sublime to the ridiculous,” is an expression that is often uttered in my interior monologue. I went from marveling at how amazingly good it felt inside to hear the chord progression of that obscure little Zeppelin tune, to the musical nails on a chalkboard.
I will not pollute my blog with any link or video of the endless George Thorogood song that followed. I am the anti-fan of George Thorogood. Suffice it to say that I was desperate to get out of the car by the time we got home.
I’m sorry if you are related to, or enamored of, George Thorogood. He can’t follow “Hey, Hey, What Can I Do?” without sounding boring, stupid, and repetitive.
Then I voted. I bubbled in a bubble sheet. The scanner machine said that I had done it incorrectly. I had to darken my bubbles. Then I had to get back in line to scan. Technology is so much better than when I could do the little metal flippy things. There was something about sewers to vote on. I said “no” to that, even though I couldn’t really read it, as I had left my spectacles in the car. My son and I both voted “no” on having judges be older and keep judging. We agree that old white guys making decisions is one of our biggest problems.