Let me just say, if I ever went to see Great White, and this resulted in my death, show me no sympathy. I'm not one to decry tragedies and feel horror at such situations, and this is no different. All I can think of is how ironic it is that the guitarist of an 80's heavy metal band, out on stage reliving his past glories, gets taken out by a pyrotechnic display. I'm sure all the AquaNet hairspray on the scene couldn't have helped matters.Yes, yes, what a horrible person I am. I'm at peace with that.
The only thing that happened at work today was also music related. For some reason someone turned the satelite radio station to some channel with a format I still haven't quite figured out, yet. All I know is I heard 40's slowdance music, fifties and sixties doo-wop, 80's music heavy on the saxaphone, that horrid "Lady in Red" song, and Julio Igleasias. It was so weird, and it seemed to throw off the whole flow of my day. One minute I was about to invade Normandy, the next I was in the middle of a Lifetime Movie about a particularly dangerous serial killer than only one woman can stop (You know those songs, right? Heavy on the souful-yet somehow souless-saxaphones? The ones that start when the two love interests-inevitably a cop and a reporter, or a cop and the perpetrator-begin to kiss, then continue through the fade-out after the two lean down out of the frame to get busy, and end somewhere around the time we fade back into a shot of the city skyline, most likely that of San Francisco? Yeah, THOSE songs.)
And then, of course, "Lady in Red," the only song that ever plays over the loudspeakers in Hell.
I guess it's just been a bad day for music, all around.
Wooderson
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