When We Are Old and Gray

You will not believe what I am subjecting myself to this evening.  Remember back in December when I posted about all the lame Christmas music I hated?  And Bluz Enemy #1 was…

Gaah!

Here I sit tonight, playing a heartless, soul-less Mitch Miller album so that I can transfer the song onto the computer as MP3s.  I then have to burn them onto a CD, but at least I can do that quietly.  But right now I have to play each song all the way through, to get them transferred to the PC.

This is the album I'm recording tonight.  Look at that cover.  If I ever show up to a "party" and that is what I see when I come in the door, please, someone just shoot me.  That's a face that says "Unspeakable things are about to happen to you before you wake up in a seedy hotel bathtub with bandages around your waist."  What you can't see behind the song list is the coffin from which he just arose at sunset.

This is killing me.  Thank God these songs are short.  At least they're not Christmas songs.

I’m doing all of this for Pinky and her old people.  She does God’s work.  (And no, I don't mean killing them all and sorting them out later.)

She is an activities person at an assisted living facility for seniors.  She’s at one particular place now, but she also has her own business doing sing-alongs and art classes, so she always needs new material.  The people at her current place asked if she had any Mitch Miller.  She didn’t, but she went online and bought what she thought would be a CD.  Unfortunately it was an LP.  So now it’s Bluz and his multi-media studios to the rescue.

You know, it’s bad enough getting old without having to listen to Mitch freakin’ Miller.  This whole album sounds like a radio commercial from the 1940s, and not even the fun stuff like Big Band.  Even the nerds in 1940 must have been going, “Geez, that’s lame.”

Do you ever think of what it will be like when we hit our 80s and have to go to The Home?  What do you think they’ll be singing to us then?

How will they be able to pull off singing the touchstone songs of our youth?  It won’t be enough to just be able to sing; they’re going to have to be able to howl!  (At least for the songs I’ll want to hear.) 

It’s going to have to be karaoke, won’t it?  Because how can you possibly hope to pull off songs like “Whole Lotta Rosie” if you don’t have the guitars?  Can you possibly perform “Hot for Teacher” without a double-bass drum kit?  If I’m in that audience, I’ll be throwing pill bottles if they skimp on the amps!  You think it would be too much to ask for some lasers and a fog machine?

But that’s the good thing about being that old and rocking out… they HAVE to turn it way up in order for us to hear it.  People will be driving down the street in front of the center and be all, “Damn, those geezens are jammin’!”

In all likelihood, I’ll have to flash back to my DJ days and get up there and spin the tunes myself.  I’ll probably have to use the next available music technology though… no LPs, no tapes, no CDs, no MP3s… by that time they’ll probably have chips embedded in our heads through which they can directly broadcast songs (and orders) into our brains.

H-A-double-R-I, G-A-N spells Harrigan…

Wait a minute… what the fuck is that?  This shit must be sinking in.  Oh, man, only 2 songs left.

If I have to listen to old shit, I much prefer something from 50s scalawag, Tom Lehrer.  I must admit, I learned everything I know about old age from one of his songs.

“Since I still appreciate you

Lets find love while we may,

Because I know I’ll hate you,

When you are old and gray.
So say you love me here and now
I'll make the most of that.
Say you love and trust me
For I know you'll disgust me
When you're old and getting fat!”

Play the video to hear the rest… it’s worth it. 

But now it’s time for me to rejoice!  The record’s over and I never have to listen to Mitch Miller or see his pervy-assed goatee ever again!

Good Night, Ladeees, gooood night ladeeeees...

Gaaaaah!