21. Last FM and the Writing Process

Ya, I'm the guy who listens to "Keane" radio while he tries to think of something to blog about.  At least today I'm that guy.

It's not really working for me. In fact, all it's really doing right now is delaying me from what I could be doing: shoveling the drive, riding the stationary bike and watching a rerun of the X-Files (ya, I'm the guy who watches reruns of the X-Files 3 or 4 times a week while riding bike), or grading some papers.

So what I'm saying is that "Keane" radio on Last FM isn't really "muse" music--it doesn't much inspire creativity, as you are plainly witnessing right now.  Allow me to change the channel and let's observe what happens.

There. "Elton John" radio.  "Your Song." 

Kind of makes me feel like writing a blog entry called "Your Blog."

"I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind
that I put down into words
how wonderful life is
while you're in the world."

That didn't really inspire anything much after all, I guess.  Next song...

"Maggie May" by Rod Stewart.

That reminds of a summer job I had after my freshmen year of college.  I cleaned the floors at the Kroger at Broadmoor Plaza in South Bend, six nights a week from 11 p.m. - 5 a.m.  I would dust mop, then scrub, then buff, then dust mop again.  It didn't take six hours, usually, but my boss wanted me to put in six hours.  So I did.  Once a week they would shut the store down for three hours and I would wax the floors.

One of the night cashiers there was named Maggie--maybe thirty, thin, light brown hair, pretty smile.  Nice.  I remember one night this song came on the radio that softly played throughout the store all night.  One of the guys who stocked shelves started singing, and before long, all five of the guys who stocked shelves made their way to the front of the store, belting the song at the tops of their lungs at her, to her great embarrassment.  Only two of them really knew the lyrics, and none of them could sing. 

It was beautiful.  I scraped stickers off the floor in the produce section, and smiled to myself.  Smouched (Huck Finn's word for "stole") one of those ginormous gumballs from the bulk food section, and hummed along.

Thank you Last FM.  I'd forgotten.