It's been said that absence makes the heart grow fonder, at least by those that drink from half-full glasses...show-offs. But what's worth pondering is the question of whether or not it makes the heart grow despondent as well. The answer is yes it does. So then, we know that absence is responsible for BOTH fondness AND despondency, naturally.
Or do we?
DUH DUH DUH DUUUUHHHHHH.
More importantly, is it the absence or is it distance that is the culprit? Is there a law or foolproof formula that explains despondency? Some simple equation with which one can arrive at a solution?
Einstein came up with the equation E=mc2, which is good if you want to create an awesome amount of energy. Good for him. Pythagoras discovered a2 +b2 = c2, which is good if you want to find out the length of a side of a triangle, keeping in mind that you know the length of two sides. Whoopee for Pythagoras.
And then there is Newton and his three laws of motion. Described as "three physical laws which provide relationships between forces acting on a body and the motion of the body", these rules sound like they just might hold the key to finding an answer to our little problem. Sighhhh.
Stupid Newton and his stupid apple. The only apple that's any good is the one I'm writing this on. Mind you if this Apple were to drop on my head, I would be getting colouring books for Christmas for the rest of my life instead of coming up with a profound discovery of Nature...unless of course, eating pudding through a straw enables me to understand the behavior of black holes.
I watch cartoons, I've seen every Star Wars/Star Trek movie more than once, I still read comics and I can multiply 8635384.40 x 1 in my head THAT QUICKLY! Needless to say, I know what I'm talking about.
But I could use a little help...need a pro with this one.
Stopped by Beakman's World and asked the good 'ol doc for help but he was too busy complaining about a rat problem in the lab and was last heard screaming "You hear me Lester?! I'm going to get medieval on your ass! The Yankees suck!".
Popped into Castle Frightenstein to ask The Professor for his brilliant insight but he was too busy doing Jagerbombs with Dr. Pet Vet and Grizelda while dancing with Igor and the Wolfman to old K.C. and the Sunshine Band records to be of any help.
Visited Stephen Hawking and made the mistake of asking what he has been thinking about. Waited an hour for him to type out "What do the Yankees and Einstein have in common? They both SUCK!" and then another hour to type, asking me if I wanted to see some nudie photos of midgets wearing rubber boots.
Dropped by the studio to ask Oprah. Tom Cruise was there. See ya...
Went to Hallmark Cards and asked them what new evidence they had on whether absence makes the heart fonder and despondent or not. They handed me their latest findings: "Not having you around gives me the same creepy feeling I get when I look at those doll heads they sell at hobby stores. Miss you. And your noncreepy head."
Only one place left where I can go. Chinatown. Abacuses are cheap there and methinks there will be a lot of math and I'm all alone with this one as it turns out.
As I made my purchase, I also made a few startling discoveries. Namely that I break, I buy, boo hoo me and that with six you get egg roll. Fascinating.
However, on the way out I dropped the abacus, causing it to break apart and scatter beads everywhere while shouts of "Boo Hoo You! Boo Hoo You! No Refund!" echoed throughout the store.
I'm nowhere near figuring out this problem but I now have two bracelets and a necklace if anyone is needing to add some simple wooden jewellry to their collection.
Working for the day Fast Forward was no longer needed
If you used a flashy, neon colored transparent blank tape like the Memorex DBS, you could look forward to a "Aww! That's SOOOO NICE!" followed by a hug, which was fantastic because their boobs were starting to become more prominent thus they were WANTING TO BE TOUCHING YOU...with their BOOBS.
If you used a high-end tape like the Maxell XL II Gold or the Sony Metal XR, with the uber-cool looking ROUNDED case, not rectangular with square corners but ROUNDED corners, with the minimalist sticker labels and the DOUBLE sided insert for COMPLETE song title AND artist listing, all on their own line and never bunched up in one long run-on sentence with italicised divider lines like this:
TinSoldier:Martika/WalkTheDinosaur:WasNotWas/TarzanBoy:
Baltimora/TooShy:Kajagoogoo/Animal:Dalbello/DamnIWishIWasYour
Lover:SophieB.Hawkins/Who'sJohnny?:ElDebarge/Let'sGoAllTheWay:SlyFox
then your chances of getting a handjob increased dramatically. No they didn't actually, well maybe, but who knew for sure and OH MY GOD SHE'S SQUEEZING HER BOOBS INTO ME...do I go for the ass grab? Better not, she might get mad and the she would HER FREAKING BOOBS ARE TOUCHING ME!!! YES!
That is taking into consideration the fact, of course, that you used a 120 min. or at the least, a 90 min. tape. If you used a 60 min. tape, wellllll then...what the fuck were you thinking!?
The difference between a good mixtape and a bad mixtape is the same difference between a good lover and a bad lover. EXPERIENCE.
Nowadays, making a mix cd requires no effort during the creation process and yet still provides a great sounding finished product thus severely diminishing the need for appreciation that could and should be bestowed upon you.
Making a mixtape wasn't about compiling music in an easily portable format. It was about getting the perfect blend of music, matching tempos and song keys, matching moods with just the right amount of mood change-up without being too drastic or shocking and above all, finding the right combination of songs that would fit PERFECTLY on both sides of the tape WITHOUT running out of tape mid-song and WITHOUT leaving a minute and a half of silence to be played before having to flip the tape over.
Unless you were cutting edge and had a deck with auto-reverse, then you had the joy of sitting down while waiting. But if the wrong combination of songs was recorded, then yes, even YOU were stuck listening to nothing until the ol' automatic switcheroo took place.
With the advent of technology, we have blistering fast burners, programs that compile playlists according to whichever preferences we may have as well as a recordable format that is ridiculously inexpensive to buy in bulk, making the entire process effortless.
And there, as the Bard once wrote, lies the rub.
The proper mixtape was ALL ABOUT effort. Every aspect of the mixtape involved effort; the conceptualization of the theme, the TITLE of the collection, song selection, gathering the various lp's, cassettes and maybe cd's needed, the writing of the song titles/artists on the insert card and/or the CREATION of an artistic insert, usually a picture cut out from a magazine taped over the insert card.
We're talking about karmic values here people. If you took the time and made the effort to put together a well thought out product then chances were good you would find yourself on the receiving end of joyful accolades and BOOBS, while your musical genius earned you the distinction of having YOUR tape being constantly played.
If you chose not to be bothered whatsoever, then chances were good you would find your gift on the floor in the BACKSEAT of their car, OUTSIDE of its case, scattered with other random tapes, window scrapers and late night drive-thru garbage.
Point being, it wasn't an effort, it was a labour of love. And with the satisfaction of knowing you made something that someone would truly cherish and look forward to enjoying, made it seem less than work...it was worth it. Well...that and the BOOBS.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)