OK, kids, it’s Friday, and you know what that means! That’s right, it means that many of us don’t work tomorrow; and while I believe in work, believe it has a place in our lives, I do not believe that that place is anywhere near a Saturday or a Sunday. (A big “shout out” to the unions, who brought us the concept of the weekend, by the way!)
The day started out great – and I mean that – with an exquisite thunderstorm last night about 3:00. Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys) perched nervously on my head while Dolly G. Squeakers (formerly of the Humane Society Squeakers) grabbed her harness in her semi-toothless mouth and paced nervously about the house, muttering her concerns. I love thunderstorms (as long as I’m indoors) but it was clear that the cats had doubts.
The morning proper has been good, too. The walk to the bus stop was as it should be (uneventful), and my iPod was dead-on. A quick word about the iPod, a fabulous gift from a former boss (miss you, Gayle!), and that word is: Shuffle. Now there’s a great word for you. Shuffle. The more you say it, the greater it gets.
Anyway, I’d like to share the songs that played – shuffled – on my iPod on the way to work this morning:
Super Stupid: George Clinton/Funkadelic
Someone Else’s Train: The Cure
Black Betty: Ram Jam
Carry On: Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young
Black Math: The White Stripes
Twist and Crawl: English Beat
Supermassive Black Hole: Muse
I was very pleased with this. Any morning that starts out with this kind of line-up is just a precursor to a heckuva weekend. I mean, they’re the songs I’ve picked, but sometimes the order just doesn’t work for me. For example, I went crazy not long ago with the complete works of The Clash. Next thing you know, you’ve got five of seven songs (my typical bus commute) being The Clash. But that’s life – and “shuffle” – for you.
Ya rolls the dice and ya takes yer chances.
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