No Ads, No Pixies
(I totally ganked the title from Rob Helpy-Chalk’s site. Sorry, and thanks, Rob.)
I finished my school library duty this morning, jumped in my car to get my ass to work, and popped on the radio.
(Which is something I don’t do often…the radio, I mean…as the morning and afternoon din of kids in my car is really all the stress I can stand. When it’s just me, in the car, quiet, no shouting, no kvetching, no music, well, that’s about as close to meditation as I get nowadays.)
So where was I? In my car. Flicked the radio on, and…”Bum bum bum ba da da bum… Here comes your maaaaaaan, here comes your man!“
I don’t know much about the Pixies, other than their lead singer was Frank Black/Black Francis. But I DO know that song is driving me CRAZY right now, it won’t leave my head, even when I clicked on a Yahoo article about Weezer’s Rivers Cuomo heading back to Harvard and “Beverly Hills” started echoing in my head. But as soon as I closed my browser, BANG!...”Here comes your maaaaaaaan!” is rolling around in there.
Local University has the best college radio station around, mostly alternative stuff, some specialty shows that knock my socks off. They like the Pixies. So I’m pretty much doomed to have this song in my head for a while.
I guess it could be worse. I could have 'Hollaback Girl' in my noodle-noggin.
(“Here comes your maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!”)