Liz Erk (lizerk) wrote,
Liz Erk
lizerk

Do not attempt to operate a motor vehicle when listening...

Instead of being overly concerned with foul language on the radio, the FCC needs to pay more attention to emotionally dangerous music. I'm serious.

I was driving home to my parents early this morning after an emotionally tumultuous evening, doing about 85. Naturally, a police officer pulled out and spent about 3 miles hovering on my rear bumper. I hadn't bothered to hit the brakes, but rather just let the car decelerate to about 65. After a while I got impatient because I was in a hurry and didn't want to miss opening the gifts.

"Come on," I muttered to myself. "If you're gonna pull me over, make it sometime before 2006."

I had my NYPD card, so I knew I'd be fine should I be stopped by an officer in NY state. Finally, rather than stop me, the cop pulled out and passed me.

Whew, thank God. I didn't have time to waste.

Once the squad car exited the highway, I resumed my rate of speed. What happened next was almost worse than getting pulled over.

A song started playing on one of the stations that was airing "24 hours of Christmas:"

"It was almost Christmas time,
there I stood in another line.
Tryin' to buy that last gift or two,
not really in the Christmas mood..."


Oh boy, I thought to myself. This sounds like another version of that brutal "Butterfly Kisses" song.

"Standing right in front of me was a little boy waiting anxiously
Pacing 'round like little boys do
And in his hands he held a pair of shoes

His clothes were worn and old, he was dirty from head to toe
And when it came his time to pay
I couldn't believe what I heard him say

Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please
It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry, sir, Daddy says there's not much time
You see she's been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes would make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight."


What the f*ck??

"He counted pennies for what seemed like years
Then the cashier said, 'Son, there's not enough here'
He searched his pockets frantically
Then he turned and he looked at me
He said Mama made Christmas good at our house
Though most years she just did without
Tell me Sir, what am I going to do,
Somehow I've got to buy her these Christmas shoes..."


My eyes welled up with tears. Like I wasn't stressed out enough, I had to go and hear about a scrubby little poor kid trying to buy shoes for his death-bed mother to be buried in on Christmas.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. By the time I pulled into my parents' driveway 10 minutes later I could barely see the road. I'm lucky I didn't sail right off the parkway into a ravine! Nothing like a good dose of depression for Christmas. Seriously, that song should start with a warning of some sort, "Caution: listening to the following may result in the impaired ability to operate a motor vehicle, suicidal thoughts and a dismal outlook on life."




**However, a half hour later all was right with the world again when I unwrapped my new Mini iPod... I suppose there are a few things the temporary high of New Toys can cure.
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