It’s going to break my dad’s heart when he finds out that the guy who wrote what he and so many others call “the ‘HEY!’ song” — which is actually entitled “Rock and Roll Parts 1 & 2” — is a pedophile.
I was listening to the Spectrum on SiriusXM today (my car came with free satellite radio), and the DJ mentioned that the Black Keys admit to being inspired by Gary Glitter, writer of stadium anthems and apparent molester of children.
Well, I guess I don’t need to say “apparent.” Courts in the U.K. and Vietnam convicted Mr. Glitter of pedophilia. Which kind of makes me think about the “Hey!” in that song in a completely new light. It’s more like, “Hey! Get away from me, Gary Glitter! You’re creepy and smell like a Vietnamese prison.”
The DJ on Spectrum actually criticized the Black Keys for saying they were influenced by Gary Glitter. Can you believe that? Like it’s their fault he recorded one of the most successful stadium songs ever, the song every Patriots fan hollers in delight after each touchdown, field goal or safety. If she’s criticizing the Black Keys, then she also needs to criticize the hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of people who jam out to that song every time it comes on the radio, from the television or out of a karaoke machine at a crappy bar where everyone is too drunk to pick songs with real lyrics and the next song chosen is “Don’t Stop Believin'” by Journey.
(Not that I have anything against that song. I love it. I just know that Journey has better songs, and I hate that Glee made it such a huge deal. I just can’t stand Glee anymore. It’s gotten so preachy. Every time I watch it, I feel like they’re trying to make me a better person. I don’t need self-help seminars coming from a TV show on Fox, and I don’t like blatant imagery/metaphors. I want a little mystique to my entertainment, which is probably the same reason I can’t make it through The Shack by William P. Young. Honestly, Mr. Young, this is not much of a metaphor: Jesus is walking across the water with the main character, and he spots a fish he’s been trying to catch. Jesus begins to chase the fish, and the main character asks Jesus why He doesn’t just command the fish come to Him. Jesus replies that it wouldn’t be as much fun, or something banal like that. Really? Really?! If you want people to understand that God doesn’t command us to love Him because that wouldn’t be true love, that we must love Him willingly, just say so. Drop the act.)
Wow. That felt good, and probably shouldn’t be in parentheses.
I completely forgot where I was going with this post. I guess it’s really just something to pass the time while I’m sitting at home recovering from yet another migraine and hoping there isn’t someone downstairs because I heard a piece of glass clink. It could have been the cat, but that would be too easy. So I locked the doors leading into my bedroom, turned on the Black Keys and posted a Facebook status that reads, “I get so paranoid when I’m in a house by myself.”
I often wonder the source of this paranoia. I’ve never been in a house when a thief has broken into it. I’ve never lived next door to a house when a thief has broken into it. When my family lived in Massachusetts, we lived down the street from a halfway house. One of the residents (who was very mentally disturbed) showed up at our kitchen door one day with his pants around his ankles asking for change for a $5 because he “wanted buy a Pepsi.” At the time, my 7-year-old brain reasoned that we was wanted by goons from PepsiCo … but that’s because I read the stocks page in the newspaper too much.
Other than that fellow, I haven’t had a face-to-face encounter with an intruder. I hope I would handle it well if someone climbed through my window, snatchin’ my people up, tryin’ a’ rape ’em. Luckily, I have neither kids, wife nor husband.