Oh, dear God, I’ve heard one too many county and western songs today. The old woman Slow went to Beaumont to see her Favorite Aunt Nicey-Nice and locked me in the little timeout laundry room by myself while she was gone but left the radio on her favorite CLASSIC C&W station to keep me company since she knew Smokey Lonesome Ollie wouldn’t budge from the bed in our bedroom and of course she was right about that but where in the Name of the Ghosts of Handel and Rodgers and Hammerstein and Cole Porter and Peter, Paul and Mary do these people get their so-called classical music?? Shit house mouse.
Two quick examples, if you will, on the subject of jukeboxes. We have the classic Don’t Rock the Jukebox which describes a Man Peep so tormented over a lost love that he begs the other Peeps in the honky tonk to please keep their quarters to themselves unless they are playing SAD and UNPEPPY songs that will not “Rock the Jukebox.” A tragedy without a doubt and The Red Man is in solidarity with the mood. Right on, Bro. I’m feeling it. Sad. Very sad. The Saddest. However, luckily, since I had 8 HOURS of solitary confinement with this particular station playing in the background, I lived long enough to hear yet a SECOND Man Peep also tormented by a lost love and he must have been in the same tavern with the first Dude but his solution was to simply SHOOT the jukebox! Outstanding. Classical idea. A little over the top, though, don’t ya think? When the Sheriff arrives to take him away, we find that the shooter’s name is Bubba. Alrighty then. Bubba Shot the Jukebox Last Night.
I understand why I am not a commercial success as a writer. Sigh.
Well, think I’ll go watch the Gamecocks beat Kentucky again before I call it a night. What can I say? Sweet. Way to go, Old Bald Coach – you just may have invented a new offense. Congrats and keep it going! Oh, and as for Slow’s Longhorns, get me outta here, Percy – they suck the big one again…
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