The Parenthesis and the Song Title

By way of Slate.com, a list of 169 Song Titles with Parentheticals (In Order of Parenthetical Charm).  I never understood why songs have parenthesis in them–why call it “Pride (In the Name of Love)” instead of “Pride, In the Name of Love” or “Pride – In the Name of Love” or even “Pride in the Name of Love” ?

Check it out; how many of the songs have you heard before?  I’m familiar with these numbers (with embedded YT links so you can refresh your aural memory):

168,
165,
163,
160,

159,
155,
154,

148,
141,
140,

136,
130,

128,

113,
111,
110,

108,
105,
104,
103,
102,
101,
100, – I was in elementary school; I was a fan.  I wonder how many times they had to do the dance routine.

95, – more cowbell!
94,
93,
92,

88,

73,
72,

67,
64,
63,
62,

58,
57,
56,

45,

28,

18,
17,
6

I wonder if Jolie Kerr would consider writing an entry about songs that end with the fade-to-silence.

Detour:  I set a goal to refrain from making media purchases until the start of football season.  I’ve been good for nearly four weeks, but in gathering links to the above numbers, I stumbled across Sara Bareilles.  Now I finally know who sings this song about not writing you a love song–she is so lovely!  I wish the entire video were just of her singing into the camera.

Before I set this no-purchase goal, I had already decided on a book for June and the season 4 of Everwood on DVD for August.  And now…mmm, the temptation to have Sara’s album be an exception calls out to me with the sweet chimes of promised contentedness.  Qu’est-ce que je dois faire?

I could add it to my Amazon wishlist.  Ou…

Are You in Line?

When was the last time you were in line at a retail store and were asked if you were in line?  When was the last time you were the one asking someone else if they were in line?  If you were in line, you probably responded with an answer in the affirmative.  If you were not in line, you…smiled and shook your head? Smiled and, “Oh, no, I’m not,” and made space for the other customer to get in front of you and that was that?

Have you ever wanted to reply with the polite response in the affirmative or negative but in your head were thinking, “No, I’m not in line; I just like to stand with my back facing the snack display and stare out the windows–nevermind that the guy in front of me is obviously in line and I’m keeping a respectable distance from him but not so far as to suggest I’m not in line.” ?

If you were inspecting the items in the snack display it would only make sense for the customer behind you to ask if you were in line.  If you were doing the asking, what criteria would have to be met before you asked, “Are you in line?”.

1.  Where the person’s attention is directed.

2.  How close or far the person is standing to the customer in front of them.

3.  If the person is holding merchandise.

4.  If the person appears lost and is in line to ask for help.

5.  Where the line is forming and if there is a roped lane.  Ie., are you at a clothing store, bookstore, at the food court, a starbux, concessions of a concert venue or sporting arena.

Yes, today’s post is brought to you by a real event and real follow-up inner monologue.

It’s Not Unusual

Before we get to the light matter, I must mention a dark matter.  What began as simply a means to clean table tops at coffee houses, cutely referred to as a “nervous habit,” has taken on a more hard-boiled-Woody-Allen dimension.  My table-wiping movements typically do not attract much attention.  Whenever a barista offers to wipe the table for me,  all I’d have to do is smile and mention “nervous habit” and they go on about their business.  On Saturday, however, at a Starbux that I haven’t gone to in many months, my “pre-game” ritual was not only interrupted mid-motion but was also terminated.  The barista didn’t interpret my “nervous habit” comment coupled with “I wipe my work desk ten times a day” in the intended manner.  Instead, she took over the towel-to-table task and left me on the sidelines.

Seconds after she was done I looked down at the surface–it was still dusty and crusty.  I stood there in the middle of the espresso-dispensing store, my mind steadily infiltrated by panic.

I was not bothered by the presence or absence of bacteria or crumbs.   Even ostensibly “clean” (as in not sticky) table tops still get a Sitting Pugs wipe-down.  I knew that I had to continue with my ritual, otherwise, I would be uneasy and bolt out the door.  When I ordered my iced beverage, I also asked for a cup of ice.  I used the ice to re-moisten the table.  I made sure that same barista was not within view.

I felt much better after I finished.

Moral of the story: If ming wants to wipe a table, yoo let ming do it.

Now back to your regularly scheduled blog post:

And it has made my morning.  This clip has made my morning.  Laughter really is good medicine.

Simultaneously Conflicting Theories

Can you hold two conflicting theories inside your head?  Like the lady in the lake who neither drowns nor floats; instead, she hugs the algae colonies that spin under the surface of the water.

Can you tease out the lessons your brethren pleaded you to learn?

And if you should be able to house two opposing agendas inside your mind, would you accept it as a gift or excise it as if it were a disease?

But more importantly, have you ever gone to bed or woken up and not remembered how you got there?

Camp Slate – The As If Theory

Get thee to Slate.com right now and read the best definition, contemplation of “camp.”  If you’ve ever taken an art theory, media theory, cultural theory, or film theory class, you know to what I refer.  I never fully understood Susan Sontag’s “lamp”-not-lamp remark until reading Simon Doonan’s article.

The specific bit of Doonan’s brilliance pertains to:

In my opinion camp is simply a matter of doing things AS IF you are doing them. Diving into a swimming pool? Throw your arms heavenward and give it the full Greg Louganis/Esther Williams treatment. When you dive into a pool as if you are diving into a pool, as opposed to executing an earnest quotidian plop, the result is magical: That pool is transformed from a grody Band-Aid-strewn chlorine bath into a veritable LAGOON!

~!~ Now go read the rest of the article!