I know, I know, I know…
“You don’t control it, jerk off.”
I’ve heard it before, usually lovingly spoken from my grandmother or a gas-station attendant who’d really like me to stop talking and just pay for my Red Bull and Laffy Taffy.
However, I digress, whether or not a casting director from NBC reads this is insignificant, what does matter is that I am a man who can control what he will or will not hear pumping through the speakers. Now like I mentioned my success rate is slightly lower than 100%…let’s put it somewhere in the ballpark of 8 to 14% on a good day. Sometimes a little lower, but I assume that has something to do with inclement weather and/or the amount of cheap Coors Lights I’d ingested the evening prior.
Here’s how I discovered this power. It happened the other day. I was in the shower and when I shower I like to crank the radio, there are plenty of reasons why but the all-encompassing logic relates to my desire to have a soundtrack for my life (which I’m roughly 93% sure is actually a sitcom – ala “The Truman Show”).
Anywho, so I’m in the shower and I think to myself…damn…I could go for a little Nickelback right now. I’d like to shadow box and pretend that the water from the shower is me sweating profusely in round 15…kinda like Rocky but without any chance of actually getting my ass kicked by a large black man with a Mohawk. Anyway, I specify it a little more…for whatever reason, I’m in the mood for the Nickelback song “Too Bad” from roughly 2001ish. Batta-Bing-Batta-Boom…the very next song to play is “Too Bad” by Nickelback.
I thought it was weird, but proceeded to knock out an imaginary Russian anyway and went on with my day. Since that day I’ve run into this phenomenon more and more. It seems to happen just about every time I turn on a radio, which is impressive when you consider that essentially every radio station in America spends most of it’s time playing the same 40 songs that no one can actually stand any longer and will continue to do so until people have revolted and ushered in a new list of 40 songs that they will soon grow to despise just the same as the 40 mediocre, quasi-inspirational melodic adventures that proceeded them.
After my food was done, I burnt my hand. I don’t know why that’s relevant to the story, but it hurt like hell and I was pissed. I just want you all to know that I burnt my hand on a hot plastic bowl of foul-tasting “pasta”…don’t high-five me for a day or two.
Anywho…when I got back to my cube, I set my scalding bowl of over-glorified dog mash down on the desk and grabbed my earphones. The very next song to play on my iTunes was “Sorry 2004”…I promptly shit a brick. Not really, b/c honestly…it’s not THAT cool of a super power. But I did go…
“What the hell is “Sorry 2004” doing on my iTunes playlist?”
…and that’s when it dawned on me. I’d never downloaded that song. I’d never purchased that CD…or seen it in any retail establishment come to think of it. I’d never heard it played more than once or twice on the radio back in early 2004. This is a sign ladies and gentlemen.
My powers are only growing stronger. They now stretch beyond mere radio waves and into the electronic hearts of CPU hard drives. I will soon be unstoppable….
Well me or Ryan Seacrest.