Oh Shuffle you are the apple of my eye

Oh Shuffle I love thee.
I have like a million and by that I mean like 3 different ideas for what I could write but that I am not going to thrash out. I have had a particularly good week socially and a less than stellar week employment wise and an overall good week in the “find old and fantastically valuable vinyl records in the closet” category too. I could spear chuck rhetoric about sticking life out and it will reward you in the end. My prose could be a face melting “common sense should prevail” anthem to the tune of corporate management. Or I could BS a less than average splurt over how I wish I was a roman conqueror because I know I would be the most fantastic looter ever since the last sacking of Rome. But I am going to talk about an adjustment, an adjustment so minor in size but so major no enormous in its effects in other categories I must accord it, it’s due credit. I have recently changed every music playing device I own to the shuffle mode. I was raised to the strict code of complete album listening. I start an album and then I finish that album. No gimmicks no, not even playlists got anything but complete albums. Singles got played always third, seven or tenth. Because they are put there, nothing else to it. This is not bad nor out of fashion or out of my life.
But I am alive, alive with anticipation for the soon to be known following track. Could the gentle piano closing notes of a Tears for Fears song and its accompanying calm floating atmosphere be torn to unrecognizable pieces by Hardcore east coast juggernauts Shai Hulud? Bad Brains pass off to their devoted spawn in the form of Glassjaw. I even once and I kid not got an Erik Clapton strato-caster God and Reggae prophet Bob Marley singing odes to the sheriff they shot and the deputy that got away. The palpable anxiety in those closing seconds of one song only to swing back your head in self satisfaction as you applaud yourself on the good choice of the follow up, makes me alive. What if I am not in the mood for the follow-up, skip one or two shuffles forward or back, problem solved. This has in its many small moments spread over my week made it a more pleasurable experience than usual. So to close I terminate just as I commenced. Oh shuffle I love thee.

The Pivotal make it point

Blast from the past , not really the past so much as 9 years ago. Yeah that s right I just remembered how much I loved that matchbox 20 song “bent” this morning. So I downloaded the whole Mad season album. Hence the blast I am having from my budding years of newly released musical appreciation. But I do have a hankering to talk of love tonight. Yes it will take a bit of self-control to not fall into a pit of self pity but I think I’d like to get something off my chest. It has been an idea I have had for awhile but in watching the new episode of Scrubs tonight another example of its truthful existence appeared. The pivotal make it point. Even though I have thought it out much I still have no catchy name for it. It is pretty self explanatory too, and also really prevalent in our cinematic mediums. Take our normal guy, by normal I mean everything and everyone that isn’t so desirable for who knows what reasons to women that he is no longer forced to normal ways of “gal-gaining”. i.e., band front men, soccer players and movie directors. But for your normal guys such as Peter Gibbons in Office space or Mike Peters from Swingers or even Ted Buckland the lawyer in Scrubs. These men are average, with as many good qualities as weaknesses that can be viewed by the opposite sex. How did they manage to get with such girlies as Jennifer Anniston or Heather graham or the ukulele girl? They get lucky because they were present and brought the necessary attributes for a pivotal make it point to take place. For Peter Gibbons it was his and Ms. Anniston’s love for kung-fu movies. Mike Peters made it because 1. He could swing dance with her 2. He too was coming off a serious break-up just like the gal. Ted found the pivotal point through the funky music they were throwing down in the hospital. Its very formulaic, boy and girl meet after much tribulation on the boy’s side. Through some way a converging of their personalities is found and exploited in a pivotal point that helps our boy to hop over the friend fence and approach the large oak doors to the dream situation and girl’s heart. Self-pity could take over but I will be stronger. Though I have not had the extreme luck nor screen writing privileges in my life to experience such a romantic comedy moment, I don’t lower my arms in despair. I am to believe that with a lot of work on my part and a large freaking shipment from lady luck, I can find where all that is me converges on a meaningful level with a lady. There I can plant my foot in it with confidence and pivot so my angle of attack is unblocked all the way to her heart. Just as our distinguished British pep talk of all spades Churchill would say in such a situation. I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat. To which I add, I have nothing to offer but likes, opinions, witty remarks and a hopeful pivotal point. Self-pity avoided.