This is a mixed blessing.
Now that my car radio’s five buttons are set to the top AM/FM oldie-stations, I get to rock-out to the best of the 60s and 70s. Cool. Much nicer than my teeny-tiny 20-tape car audio collection. Of course I could have been listening to the airwaves all along. But I didn’t. Instead I motored in monotony, stuck in a rhythmic rut without the likes of Jefferson Airplane, the Rolling Stones or the Doors.
Until my car devoured Elton’s “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road,” my choices were dictated by what I found at yard sales. And the cassette pickings these days are pretty pathetic.
Necessity has freed me from this routine. Now I’m able to crank up the stereo. So I did, and serendipitously, the sweet sounds of Santana soothed my soul.
“I ain’t got nooobody. That I can depend ooon…”
Suddenly I’m 16 again. It’s Friday night, and I’m on Chester Avenue cruisin’ in my ’66 VW Beetle. The sun roof’s open, and the streetlights are so bright I’m wearing my sunglasses. I can almost smell the hot oil from that leaky old valve cover.
The song ends, but my flashback continues. Right up to the next radio ad.
“And what can you depend on?” the announcer asks rhetorically? “When you’re afraid to leave your home, shop, or take in a movie? Worried that a sudden sneeze will lead to the embarrassment of soiled undergarments? Well, fear no more. With our discreet “Zen-Serenity” bladder protection, you’ll get your life back.”
Arrgh! I fume. Do I need to hear this?
I don’t know what annoys me more. The assumption that I’m incontinent because I’m over 50, or the announcer segueing from lyrics I adore to an ad that makes my orifices pucker.
Gee, Geezer Radio, thanks a lot. You just ruined “No One To Depend On.” I won’t be able to hear it again without thinking of adult diapers. I haven’t been this annoyed since James Brown’s “I Feel Good,” was hijacked by a laxative commercial.
You can read the full story here… http://bit.ly/1ouyB88