Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Hello Brightness, My Old Friend

Why hello there hot, shiny sun. I see you have made your return after two months of April. So good to see you. You make sports more fun to play in.

But you make lunchtime walks unpleasant. Actually, you make walks on the numbered NW DC streets unpleasant. Strolls down lettered avenues are quite shady and nice. A ramble to the Olsson's on 19th left my old-man skin burn-y.*

At the same time, though, I do enjoy trying to watch seven people read the Express in the thin shadow of a telephone poll each morning at the bus stop. We can't all fit, guys. Somebody's going to have to squat in the mailbox shade.

And Olsson's, I'm the first guy to say "you know, you really should support you neighborhood independent record shop and bookstores," but you're making it tough. $16.99 for a new release does not a sale make. But hey, I can wait a few weeks for the demand to drop.

It will then go to its regular price of $19.99, you say? Hmm. Best Buy is within two miles of my house and stands alone in the parking lot. That makes it neighborhood-ish and independent-like, right? What if I promised to walk?

Life was so much easier when I didn't know people who worked for the RIAA and could still invite them to parties without fear of them seeing the illicit, Kazaa-ed origins of my songs. And is it ironic or a coincidence that the RIAA has their office in the building above Olsson's on 19th? Stupid Jagged Little Pill.

* And the pretty lass on the other side of the street, you will remain un-checked-out because the Nabob is unwilling to cross into the sun.

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