The house in Monroe was welcomed into the 21st century with the long-awaited arrival of Messr. Comcast guy. Messr. Comcast was black, and I watched amusingly as my semi-racist grandparents (you know how old white people are) fretted until they ascertained that Messr. Comcast was not about to download all of their personal information onto Comcast's Big Brother database, undoubtedly being run by Barack Hussein Obama and feeding information to the Soviets.
As such, this will be my last non-musical post, thank God. Musical discovery has returned to my life, and I live in rapture. A few musings before life continues as usual:
1) No geographical region in the US (in this case, Northeast Louisiana) should have to suffer without a decent old-school R&B station. I realize that radio is becoming increasingly irrelevant, but this does not excuse the lack of Otis Redding/Al Green/Martha & the Vandellas on the airwaves. Perhaps I have been spoiled by WWOZ and 94.3 in New Orleans?
2)Of all types of drama and conflict, inter-office work drama is by far the lamest. Its depressing to see people more than twice my age acting like middle-schoolers. It is even more depressing when you want to poke your eyes out with a pair of scissors because you are slightly hungover in the office and you still have 6 long, slow hours staring at you. Goddamn, if you fuck up, accept criticism, and get the fuck over it. Quite a concept.
Glorious, glorious music tomorrow. Maybe some Os Mutantes? Perhaps a little Animal Collective? Throw in Martha and the Vandellas and we have a recipe for success.
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