Track 9

It's sweltering outside. It's probably 90 degrees. Or higher. And it's humid. The side yard is twisted, tangled jungle of weeds. Before the attack, I have to do a little reconnaissance first. The last time I tried this, there was a poison ivy defense. I should have seen it. Leaves of three and hairy vines and all that. It makes me itch just to think about it. I sprayed it and then I sprayed it again. If the plants are going to be using biological warfare, it's only fair that I am allowed to respond in kind. They had mixed in with the benign plants. Maybe the poison ivy thought that would provide it some kind of protection. By using the surrounding plants as some kind of human shield, perhaps I would be unwilling to tear everything out. How wrong it is.

I'd just as soon burn it all, but Wikipedia says that youyou can actually breath in the urushiol in the smoke. Urushiol is what causes the rash on your skin. Swallowing it or breathing it in would be much worse. And if it's on the internet you know it has to be right. I check around the poison ivy seems dead, but the urushiol is still there even if the plan is dead, getting all the roots out can be problematic, so I have on heavy work gloves and am wearing a long sleeve shirt and jeans. And it's 90 degrees out. Or higher. And humid. As I venture into the jungle, I have my headphones, my iPod, and some backlogged All Songs Considered podcasts. Sometimes, I wonder if NPR hosts are as dull in real life as they sound on the radio. Sometimes the panel discussions can be lively, but it's nearly impossible to not sound pretentious on NPR. But since WOXY ceased operations, the podcast has been my main source of discovering new music. Host Bob Boilen, introduces a short, snotty little powerpop by a band called The Front Bottoms.

He talks about them having played at a club in DC the other. He mentions how everyone knew the lyrics and sang along. He mentioned how hot it was inside the club and how everyone inside was sweating, most of all the band. I wonder if the band was sweating as much as I am now. The song plays. The song lasts all of one minute and fifty seconds. The introduction for the song and band took at least thrice that long.

For some reason it reminds me of playing Rock Band. It reminds me of the powerpop songs that Brandon usually picked. I think he used to pick the songs by Paramore. I'm not sure if it's because he had a crush on the female lead singer, or just enjoyed singing in that register. Silent Bob usually played fake guitar the whole time while wearing his hat. Zitzer would always pick classic rock songs. Billy... well, Billy was usually drunk. I rewind the podcast and listen to the song again. It was kind of catchy. There's no way it could be a Rock Band song in retrospect. It's far too short. There's no accordion in Rock Band (but wouldn't it be awesome if there was!). Aside from that, there's there's no accompaniment except for a tambourine and a simple picked guitar for most of the song. Except for the thirty seconds or so during which explodes. Blow that part out for four or five minutes and maybe you've got a Rock Band song. Oh, well. Back to the weeds, Just keep pulling them until the garbage can is full I guess. Damn I'm sweaty.

Fast Forward to the winter. Unlike Game of Thrones, winter does actually come at some point.

I wonder why that song from those months ago is still stuck in my head. Probably the accordion. I'm a sucker for non-traditional instrumentation in rock music. More Saxophones! More glockenspiel! More accordions! More strings! More horns! I need something to pair with the theme from The Good Guys for the rockin' out portion of the mix. This'll probably fit. It's a break-up song, though. Yeah, but it's kind of funny. Besides, it makes a really 1-2 punch of unadulterated rockin' out. Maybe I should pay attention to the lyrics a little more, but what do I do? I just ignore them and go ahead and put it in the mix. Actually, I'm perfectly aware of the lyrics and hope that you think it's some combination of cute/clever/endearing that I let my inner weirdo shine through and ignore what convention dictates should and should not go this mix CD. Besides, I might be the last person alive to make mixes like and burn to an actual CD. If I'm the only one doing it, I get to the make the rules.

My brother would make mix tapes that had no particular order to them. He would sit by his stereo listening to the radio, and when they announced they were about to play a song that he liked he'd sit there and try to record it to a cassette. Screw actually buying music. I gotta say that in the pre-internet days, if you wanted your own copy of a song without paying for it, you had to earn it. Anyway, at some point he decided music existed beyond classic rock and started buying CDs. He also probably had a job too.

Anyway, if I'm the last person that is keeping this dying art alive, I get to make all the rules.

I want my money back....