Some short takes on what's been happening down here today...
Donna and I went to " The Transfer Station. " Remember when they used to call these places " Dumps? " I see the people who work there. They seem like nice, hard working folks. And I'm kinda happy for them. They go to a party, or are sitting at a bar. Someone asks:
" So. Whaddya do? "
" I work at the transfer station. " Or " I'm in the transfer industry. "
That's so much better than having to say, " I work out at the dump. "
But you know how language evolves. The English language is a living, breathing thing. Ever changing. You can almost hear some parent in the future, walking into his or her kid's room, strewn with dirty laundry and stuff. And saying:
" This room looks like a transfer station! "
There are times when I think my wife wonders: Why me? Why, of all the womens' lives back in the 70s, did this jerk have to walk into mine? I thought that this morning as we pulled into the transfer station. It was warm. The car windows were down. I slid my Eminem CD into the CD player. The first track started playing. As we waited in line to get into the area where we were going to dump, er, transfer our trash...
I turned up the volume. Eminem was doing his thing, making his rhymes. You might think: Cole Porter he's not. You might be asking yourself: How much talent do you need to come up with a word that rhymes with motherf---er.
All I ask is that you listen to Eminem's stuff. I do think he's talented. Very talented. And I think an argument could be made that he is, indeed, as good at songwriting as Cole Porter was.
But try telling that to the guy who gave me that look just after I cranked up the volume. It was a classic double take. Joe E. Brown couldn't have done it better. He expected, I think, to see some dumbass street smart wannabee sitting there in his car. Instead he saw a middle aged guy in a Hyundai. A woman sitting next to him, giving the middle aged guy behind the wheel a look twice as dirty as the one he's giving me.