There's just something funny about a large-print edition of a book titled Letters to Penthouse. Maybe there's a senior discount, as well.
I've discovered that listening to NPR, and especially classical music, make my job much more pleasant, and this pretty music is a beautiful juxtaposition in a drab, chilly, ugly warehouse. I've got this plugged into my ears, of course; the radios are all blaring the same music over and over, and the same commercials.
Rod Stewart, 62, sounds horrible, these days, but he's touring. I wonder if he's still singing, "If you want my body and you think I'm sexy come on, sugar, let me know." I suspect the screams have turned into laughter. Then, I hear, over the radio, that "Betty White's still alive, and she's 85 today." How rude! She's still sharp and funny, too.
Up until two days ago, I'd never heard of The Line of Beauty, by Alan Hollinghurst, but it took The Man Booker Prize in 2004. The clerks who alphabetize our books had it filed under T. Someone just loves articles. Well, it's been remaindered, which means, we ain't got no more.
We're the clerks who file under THE! THE! @#$@Ouch! Make them stop! It's a sad day when clerks can file under THE at will!
"At will" is the present state, too; it's a tedious affair, having to guess where a title might be hiding. Some titles that don't even contain an article are filed under the, anyway. Of course, it's the same story with a and an. Even the conjunction and causes confusion. And the Band Played On is filed under T.
But I got off track, as usual. This was supposed to be a post about the wonders of National Public Radio. The news is so interesting, the music is different every single day, and there are no annoying commercials playing over and over and over again.
Ekim (the hubby) was watching football this past weekend and remarked on how the same commercials were occurring every station break, and I thought, he never has to put up with commerical radio. Well, hardly ever.
Speaking of juxtapositions: the commercials that run on most radio stations during the day have to do with physical appearances--the same diet commercials, lazer hair removal, wrinkle creams, acne cures--stuff like that. It's very strange to be listening to these ads for expensive cosmetic products in a place where about half the employees don't even use their dental insurance. I'm not exaggerating about that, unfortunately. I'm surrounded with people who would rather teach themselves how to eat, talk, and display mirth without making the gaps obvious. Then, there are a host of those who don't mind the gaps. But, hey, let's all make sure we apply those wrinkle creams every night and get rid of that awful hair...
The job is boring, even with NPR, to tell the absolute truth, but an interesting story, or some different music can really supply a much-needed break from the same-old tunes, especially when so much about the job is the same old monotony every day.
Which reminds me that I manage to look up at the clock at the same time every morning. It's always 10:30am. My work anniversary IS Groundhog Day, too. Maybe I'm destined to do this forever, just like Bill Murray's character was destined to wake up to "I Got You, Babe" again and again and again.
Oh, now I'm talking about Groundhog Day. Terrific. I'd better stop. No telling where I'll end up, if I don't.