Thursday, June 22, 2006

So what??

Each night, as we clean and close at Harbucks, my coworkers (most of whom are several years younger than me. and by several I mean between 3 and 10) flip on the radio so that we can rock out while we clean. Rock out. In my world that can mean a lot of things. I'm a classic rock kind of girl, but I can dig on the 80's music. Throw on some Punk. Hard Rock. Or a little Disco. Some Swing. Jazz. Whatever. Let's dance and sing, lets giggle and laugh.

Hip Hop. I think I have discovered a genre of music that I might just go ahead and hate. (Gasp!! Racist!!) I can respect the rhythm. I can respect that the people singing are actually on key. But really, that's where my appriciation ends. Call me a fuddy duddy, but it's an assault on my ears. and the culture it promotes? Not respectable. Sure, it might be yours, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Gloifying ex cons? Nope. Pimps? Uh Uh. Here's a lyric for you:

"I'm from the Ghetto, Homey. I was raised on Bread and Baloney" (this gem is currently stuck in my head)

Who wasn't raised on baloney sammiches? we ALL ate baloney sammiches. We were all poor. Hello? Dinty Moore Beef Stew was a treat. I remember times when all we had was top ramen and powdered donuts to eat, and while I may just go ahead and write a book some day, I don't think I (or you) deserve special accolades for growin up poor. It's nothing new, it built character, move along. I am however slightly impressed by your ability to rhyme Homey and Baloney. here's another one:

"Blah blah blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah. You can do it all by your self. Let me hear you say..."

Quite frankly, I can't understand most of what this man says, but I think this comprises the entire volume of lyrics in the song. and it gets stuck in my head. just as you read it. along with the ear splitting electronic instruments that accompany all hip hop music.

I'm really trying to see the appeal. I just don't. I accept that people like it. I just wish it didn't grate on my nerves at midnight. Why don't I mention it to my coworkers and settle on a new channel? because 2 out of three people in the building enjoy it. and I respect the majority. I pick my fights. Hip hop just isn't worth it. It's an hour of assault on my senses. (More if you count the part where it gets stuck in my head) And I recognise that there are plenty of people who don't prefer MY musical tastes.

So I climb in my car, turn up Janice, or Louis, or whomever happens to be giving a concert at the time, and relax.

"Trouble mine, Lord I'm blue, I'm not, I won't be blue always..."

1 comment:

Sensei Ern said...

I bought my first MP3 player this week. I needed to pick up an earpiece for my wife's cellphone, and the one she wanted cost $40, so I spent $50 on a Sandisk player.

There are only two kinds of sound that my player will hold: Surf Instrumentals and Military Cadences.

Take a Dick Dale CD or the Sound track to Pulp Fiction to rock out on. If the kids you work with don't appreciate it, buy a MP3 and dance to your own drumbeat.