Weren't You Supposed to Die?

On August 1, 1981 a little conceptual tv channel proclaimed the end of the radio and the start of a revolution. Well, almost 25 years later we are still pumping out the same music on the radio. I love many types of music but like most things it's in moderation that keep the enjoyment around.

I am convinced that right now if you were to turn on the radio you would hear one of the following songs.
Led Zepplin- Black Dog
Lynard Skynard- Free Bird
Green Day- Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Avril Lavigne- Happy Ending
and any rap song about things that are shiny.

Radio is the catch 22 that we all love to complain about. How often will a new song come on the radio and you change it within the first twenty seconds? The average song on the radio is only about 3 minutes. That's it. In the time it takes for the car in front of you to merge completely over one lane the song will be over. Do we listen? Sometimes but often times not. The reason is simple. No one wants to willingly leave their comfort level on such a regular basis.

Another concern I have about radio is that it still has such an impact on people's lives. I found myself frantic over a contest for a radio station. Then I realized to what capacity of a dueche bag I have become. Morning shows are something I loathe for the reason that I am a conversation orphan. When I enter a gathering with people already there, I feel like all that I am doing is standing within peripheral vision of everyone while they carry on deliberately steering conversation away from my bastard social life.

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I left the comfort zone this week. The thing about leaving your comfort zone is that you really don't know what it is until you feel horribly uncomfortable. Apparently my comfort zone was a private shower. When I went to the YMCA this week I had to shower before work, common coutesy. Upon enter the locker room I knew that this was going to be ackward for a couple reasons. 1. I have that huge bruise on my thigh that shows the rest of the inmates that I am able to be conquered. 2. I have realized that with age women hate the sagging while men are ok with it. There will always be the desire for our areas to actually be hitting the floor. 3. I'm not gay. Pyschiatrists claim that we all experience moments where we contemplate alterior sexualities. Well, when entering a shower stall full of farmer tanned new year's resolutions made me long for even a Wisconsin woman.

Never have I taken a quicker shower in my life. Consequentially, never have I stared at one ceramic tile for an entire rinse, lather and rinse cycle. I know that I am griping about the YMCA of all places but still I felt like I was breaking into a Mason's meeting or something.

I would like to meet the person that ruined my chance at a shower divider. Not in public man, not in public.