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October 18, 2001: On being unintentionally annoying

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When I get a new CD / tape / mp3, it's usually something I've been wanting for a while, or heard somewhere and fell head-over-heels in love with, and so I end up playing it over and over until I finally get enough. This can take anywhere from a few days to weeks…and sometimes I never do get enough. I still play one of Amy Grant's Christmas albums over and over when I'm alone in my car, even in the heat of summer, because I adore her arrangement of 'Little Town of Bethlehem'.

My current musical love is 'Down In The River To Pray", from the movie Oh Brother Where Art Thou. Ever since I saw that movie the tune has been fluttering around in the back of my head, creeping out in bits and pieces until I had no choice but to track down the mp3. The movie itself was a bit odd - all done in sepia tones, and a bit of a departure for George Clooney because in this film, not only was he required to act, but he proved he actually has talent beyond just looking simultaneously sexy and angsty at the camera.

I'm an incredible sucker for accopella music, and this one has the type of lingering gospel echo guaranteed to either send shivers up my spine, or set me chomping at the bit to tackle singing it myself. Luckily Richard seems to like it just as much as I do. And at least I've finally finished obsessing over 'Halleluja' from the Shrek soundtrack.



I drove to work yesterday morning amid heavier traffic than I was used to, making the same trek for those 18 months at my last customer site for the Big Fish. I did my usual flipping-through-the-channels routine on the radio, looking for something I could sing to. And, as usual, I zipped along at perhaps a tad over the legal speed limit, until I noticed the speed trap as I was approaching, and took my foot rather hastily off the gas pedal until the speedometer had dropped to more acceptable levels.

After the brief panic over the whole speed-trap concept in the first place, it dawned on me that this was no ordinary speed trap. Normally they've got two or three cars out and maybe the same number of motorcycles. This morning, however, there were at least a dozen motorcycles all clumped under the overpass, and I passed more with cars pulled over, issuing tickets. It didn't sink in to my still sleep-fogged brain until I saw yet another alarming horde of police motorcycles congregated on the other side of the freeway. And that's when I finally started paying attention to the news babble from the radio I'd been blithely ignoring for the whole drive. The Shrub graced our capitol city with his presence yesterday, and that's why the police were out in force. Duh!

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