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Wednesday, July 19, 2006

One Of My Last Conversations With An 8-track Player

8-track: "Hey kids!"

Curmudgeon:
"Yeah, whuzzup?"

8-track
: "Shake it loose together"

Curmudgeon:
"Uuhhh, okay (?)"

8-track
: "The spotlight's hiding something that's been known to change the weather."

Curmudgeon:
"Dude. You been drinkin'?"

8-track
: "We'll kill the fatted calf tonight, so stick around!"

Curmudgeon:
"Sounds good! I could go for a juicy steak on the grill."

8-track: "You're gonna hear electric music"

Curmudgeon: "NONE OF THAT FUCKING DISCO SHIT, HEAR ME?"

8-track: "Solid walls of sound."

Curmudgeon:
"'Cause I don't do disco. That shit can go straight to hell. You spin some B.T.O. or maybe some Zeppelin and we're cool. But I hear one gawddamn violin put to a drum beat and you're out the fucking window. Trust me. B-B-B-Benny! ♪♫ ... , ♪ Benny! ♪♫ ..., ♪♫ Benny! ♪♫ ..."