|
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
The Snob
Every once in a while, the RedEye has a column called "Reader Reviews" and asks the masses a question about popular music. More often than not, they're pretty boring, because they manage to find the most uninteresting members of the population to comment and have their picture on display for thousands to see (if all of those thousands actually make it all the way back to the music section). But today, one man has managed to rile me up.
The Question: "Eminem, U2, Gwen Stefani, Allison Krauss and Destiny's Child have all released albums in the past two weeks. Plan on buying any of them?"
The Answer: "No, I find pop commercial music to be sort of horrifying -- overproduced, trite and uninteresting."
This 22-year-old hipster who hails from Gold Coast and is wearing what appears to be a Burberry Scarf tied tightly around his neck in the style of a pretentious British pop star even though it has not been nearly that cold makes me almost ill. One wonders what, if anything, he listens to.
Indie rock bands? Oh yes, because they don't have the money to "overproduce" their music, that means they're more real. I guarantee that 95% of them would be happy to be meeting Rodney Jerkins and throw a few "dark childs" in the background of their music if they had the chance.
Old school rock like Bruce Springsteen and Johnny Cash? Never have they been more popularized by the masses than they have now.
Or maybe he's one of those annoying music majors who only listen to classical music. Nice that someone who is so devoted to music can completely dismiss entire genres because they're different than what they study in music theory. (Take that M. Christine.)
Or maybe he's just some poser who wanted to be the sole voice of dissent in a local publication, because that's the non-conformist thing to do. It shows he's genuine and smarter than everyone else, because he doesn't subject himself to the whimsey of narcissistic music producers and their proteges.
Well screw you, Cole. (How's it feel to have someone judge you without actually knowing what you're really about?) Maybe try listening to some of the popular music that's out there. You don't have to like it, but to classify everything as "overproduced, trite and uninteresting" without actually knowing what you're talking about is just ignorant. And to lump all of those artists in the same "horrifying" category shows that you have no idea what you're actually talking about. Every one of those artists is doing something completely different from the others. And they're all doing things that are different from many of the THOUSANDS of popular music artists in the world. Stop being so much cooler than everything around you and admit that you bought the Beyonce CD just like the rest of us did.
Lucky for you, Kelly Clarkson has managed to calm me down as I write, or who knows what I might do.
11/24/2004 08:56:00 AM link
| talk
(1)
Friday, November 19, 2004
The Salad
You know, I thought I could never love again. When Chili's replaced the fajita chicken salad with the far less appealing quesadilla explosion, I tried to embrace change. But man, that salad sucks. Poor dressing, not enough flavor, really a huge disappointment. Coupled with the fact that they replaced my favorite salad with something so lackluster, well, you can imagine my devastation.
In the same vien, the #32 at California Pizza Kitchen is a salad that is obsessively ordered whenever I put out the menu. 20% of all people ordering lunch order this dumb thing. And so I rebuffed. Partly out of pain and partly out of annoyance.
But I think that Kelly Clarkson sums it up best by singing (as she is right now on my yahoo launch) "I Never Lived Before Your Love".
It's true. I don't know how I lived without the #32 BBQ Chicken Salad. It's so good, I want to cry. Listen: "Chopped lettuce, sweet corn, jicama, cilantro, basil and crispy corn strips tossed in our garden-herb ranch dressing with chopped BBQ chicken breast, tomato and scallions."
Yum.
But I have to admit, I'm going down a shame spiral. Why, oh why, did I deprive myself of this beauty for so long? Why did I have to be so stubborn? All this time I could have been having #32 goodness, but I was too scared that I would get burned again. And now, what if I do? I've wasted all these months. What if they discontinue the salad next week, and I've only had it once?
It's bittersweet, the #32. It's almost more than I can take.
11/19/2004 01:44:00 PM link
| talk
(3)
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
The Look
It's not good. Seriously, who let me out of the house today?
Probably the same person that pushes me out of the wrong side of the bed every morning. If anyone can find out who that is for me, I'll give you a cookie.
11/17/2004 08:57:00 AM link
| talk
(2)
Saturday, November 13, 2004
The Visit
Guess who's here. Right now.
It's The Amy. Actually two feet away from me in her blue plaid pajamas. We've just looked at the wedding pictures. Presh.
It's not often that there is a visit. Cameo performances are few and far between. To commemorate the occasion (and wow, there's two words in one phrase that I'm really not sure how to spell...) we've procured a cookie. Not just any cookie. But a free Potbelly cookie.
It doesn't get much better than that.
Except that it does. Because who's about to blog right as we speak? (Well, ok, I'm the one speaking and you're reading, but maybe you're not very good at reading, or were just the type of kid to not raise their hand, so you didn't every really understand the different between herd and heard, well, and who does, but I digress...the point was that maybe you're reading the words out loud because that's the only way you know how to do it, so in theory we could both be speaking just as there is blogging. Which isn't happening because you've been keeping me in this parenthetical for ages now, and come on...)
Right. Amy. Blogging. Go:
Amy: Seriously, dudes. This is a great cookie.
Micks: And that's all. When there is a cookie, one doesn't have time for words. You understand.
Amy: Suckit, Shaniqua. Go catch the running dyke.
Micks: It's true. That's not just a constellation. We saw a real one. Running down the street. As if chasing some sort of cookie. Little did she know that we had the goods right here.
Amy: And she was wearing a totally hot red velvet or sateen-like shirt. (If you put "like" it doesn't matter how you spell it. Watch: lysben-like.)
Micks: Wow, that does work. Nice.
Amy: So anyway- rude for taking the keyboard away- Shaniqua was trying, trying, TRYING to get out of the car to catch her grrlfriend (we were in Micky's truck, which is an obvious lysben symbol) and she couldn't get OUT in time. So we have to settle with cookies and drunken internet blogging.
Micks: Although to be fair (and because he knows his parents read this...) one of us was not so drunken, because he was driving. He was responsible. Although cookies may drive him to some kind of sugar high, and that really can't be helped.
Amy: And really, I was more drunk on the joy of companionship with my 2 favorites. Awwwww...
Micks: Love. And sleep. Because, man it's late. And we didn't all have a time change.
Amy: 12:30 on the WES COAS!
And SCENE.
11/13/2004 02:15:00 AM link
| talk
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
The Blue Bag
Did you know that you have to pay to recycle in Chicago? And you have to go out and buy these stupid blue bags and put all your recycling in them for the garbage man to pick up, only to throw them in with the rest of your garbage. And you know that they just wind up in the landfills like all the other trash. I'm sure the environmentally conscious aren't thrilled with that.
Not that I ever actually recycled anywhere else I've lived. Although I did keep cans and bottles in Des Moines, because we got a nickel back for each one, and after having a party, you can get some major coin.
That's what every state should do. I don't know why they don't.
Oh. Sorry. That's not actually the blue bag I was thinking of. I'm thinking of something more important. Namely, the fact that Tostito's has given up its traditional pink and turquoise bag  for something in a nice shade of dark blue.
Don't get me wrong. I like blue a lot. And the shade that they have chosen is quite pleasing to the eye.
Lots of things are changing in the world, with wars and elections (please, let today pass quickly...I'm so over this vote or die stuff...), can't we at least get a little stability with our snacks? Come on, Tostito's, maybe you wait until next year to unveil your new look.
It's almost more than I can handle. I almost don't want to eat chips and salsa. I know, I know...they're the same chips that I've always loved, and I shouldn't judge them by their new exterior. But it's hard. It's hard to look at something with the same love and devotion when they've completely changed. I don't know them anymore.
You know, the husband of the woman who won the Swan? He was all "I still love her, but I had a hard time getting used to the new her." (Please don't quote that, I just made it up.)
So I'm sorry, Tostito's, that you've chosen this moment to hurt me. It may take me some time, but maybe someday we can regain the relationship we once had.
Or this could be the opportunity to counteract the weight gaining portion of my job.
Or maybe not.
|
