Sha-na-na na-na na na-na-na, sha-na-na na-na....
Right. I'd rather hear the Brady Bunch than the hip-hop that's suddenly pumping out of my favorite music station. Former favorite music station. They've had a format change at 93.1, The Lake. Suddenly it's 93.1 Jams. They can jam it, all right.
Friday I was happily singing along to the Moody Blues, Elton John, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Heart. Well, not so happily singing along to Heart, but you get my point.
You know, I had a boyfriend who was totally in lust with those chicks, and I just couldn't see it. I mean, what's to like about big boobs and husky voices, right?
Anyway, what's to like about this bass-driven drivel? Oy, I think I'm channeling my father.
So I turned the radio on after class and switched it off Air America – don't even start – to my afternoon tunes. Except they were playing some unremarkable rap that had no melody, no harmony and scarcely audible lyrics. Format change fear hit hard, but I hoped maybe it was an ad. Alas, the song finished and their little station identification came on to notify me that this was a twin broadcast from something much further up the dial. As if one frequency weren't enough.
Ugh. I had been so happy that there was one station that played music I liked. I guess I'll have to move over to the oldies station and suffer through "Earth Angel" to get the occasional Beatles tune.
Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they're going to play that awful crap all night and day....
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4 comments:
one word for you: NPR.
I love NPR, which I listen to until the local station switches over to classical from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. Sometimes I listen to the classical, but the dynamic range is so huge that my wimpy car stereo can't produce any sound during the quieter parts of the music. Silence is fine, but I don't need a radio for that. They have another station, the ideas network, that has more talk and news, but it's out of Milwaukee, and I can't always pick it up, unfortunately.
I remember your father doing the polka in the living room by himself. Probably listening to the National Polka Radio
Lisa, that's a funny image, my dad polkaing alone, but I remember him doing that, too. I used to polka with him, though. Not often.
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