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July 12, 2009
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Instead of clogging the blogsosphere with yet another post about Saturday's Harper's Island season finale (it was HENRY!), I'd like to turn your attention, for once, away from Saturday night CBS, and on to everyday radio.

I listen to an abundant amount of radio in my car and have recently begun to question a lot of the lyrics that I hear spilling out of my favorite funk, top forty, and oldies stations.  Allow me to share:

1. "Funky Town" by Lipps Inc.

"Gotta make a move to a town that's right for me.  Well, I talk about it / Talk about it / Talk about it/ Talk about it /Talk about / Talk about / Talk about movin...won't you take me to Funky Town?"


In 2007, I had the urge to live in a new city.  Like Lipps Inc, I talked about, talked about, talked about moving.  Unlike Lipps Inc., Funky Town was definitely not an option for me.  I was looking for a place that had jobs, interesting people, a solid comedy scene, good restaurants, and affordable housing.  Funky Town has none of these.  In fact, it is my understanding that Funky Town has no museums, a non-existent public school system, and, not surprisingly, one of the worst economies in the world, with an overall GDP - per capita of $101.07 (radio royalties + a $.99 iTunes purchase by yours truly).  Lipps Inc, you should have gone with your gut and moved to Chicago.

2. "Big Poppa" by Notorious B.I.G.

You got a gun up in your waist, please don't shoot up the place...Why?...Cuz i see some ladies tonight that should be havin' my baby...baby.

Alright, Chris.  Let's just say - hypothetically - that there were no acceptably attractive women at the club that night.  Are you implying that in this situation, you would've been o.k. with your buddy shooting up the place and taking innocent lives?  That's unacceptable.  I would much prefer: You got a gun up in your waist, please don't shoot up the place...Why?...Cuz violence is wrong and I see some good personalities that should be livin' to eighty...maybe.

3.  "Kokomo" by the Beach Boys


...Port-au-Prince, I wanna catch a glimpse...

Maybe it's just me, but this line evokes an image of the Beach Boys in a helicopter flying low over Port-au-Prince, catching a glimpse of a raging trash fire, laughing, and quickly turning around to Kokomo headquarters.  Why do you guys have to pick on the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere? I'm gonna say what we've all been thinking all along: Brian Wilson is a Haiti Hater!

So, friends, I urge you to be critical, compassionate radio listeners.   Next time you hear that a woman got the seats all wet in T. Pain's ride (all OVER his ride), you should suggest that he call a doctor.  Perhaps she is about to have a baby. 








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