Or, for those of you who want the same explanation with a smaller number of syllables so you don't need to re-read the sentence three times to get where I'm going, I like doing the unexpected.
And here, we take a brief break for context before returning to the topic at hand:
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I'm a finicky radio listener. I typically don't listen to the radio unless I'm in the car. Too many years of being able to craft my music to my preferred tastes, be it through CDs or on the computer, has made it so that I churn through radio settings constantly.
One minute I'm listening to an upbeat country song, then I'm trying to take in a distant Christian station, then I'm catching up on an golden oldie from the late 80's, and partway through the song I'm now sampling a news update on NPR.
Note: I am only this picky while I am by myself, so as to cut down on others being perturbed by my twisting the dial.
For some lengthy stretches I have one hand on the wheel and the other one steadily cranking the knob.
Other than the two summers spent working 9-hour days in a Missouri Department of Conservation work truck, I never learned the area stations enough to know what's being broadcast, so I never know where I roam what I will catch.
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That being said, I typically hate hearing what other people blast in their radios. Sure, you're entitled to make musical selections on your own, but why inflict them on the general public, I often wonder - especially that annoying buzzing bass that rattles the ground as people go by. And I don't know why, and I lack official statistical data to back me up, by it is my opinion that most of these songs have a heightened percentage of cuss words that a habit of cutting through the air. You may not know the general lyric, but you sure know there are people in the background stating their affiliation with the singer's statements by proclaiming "fornication, yes" at regular intervals (or other phrases of that ilk).
Granted, this is not always true, but most people, as they hear a growing bass line beginning to grow in the distance, to believe some punk to be approaching, blaring the music written by guys who are "mad at their dads."
Today, as I went through downtown Jefferson City, I decided to arrange some counter-programing.
And that is how I was round making a slow lap around the state capitol rotunda, surrounded by fancy cars and lobbyists in suits, cranking my radio to the local classical music station, sharing some string quartet with all those located within a 100 yard radius.
I think I did some good in achieving my goals. I, one, broadened peoples' expectations, and I, two, shared a mean string solo with the public.
How many people can say they did that today?
Don't roll over yet, Beethoven, the party is just getting started... and tell the legislature the news.
liz manring said...
you know us band kids, we're all about the good music. i thoroughly enjoyed seeing you last week, caleb. keep posting. it's nice to have a way to keep up with you.