While waiting for the infamous Joe Laedtke to give me a buzz yesterday afternoon regarding dinner at Noodles, I decided to utilize my time wisely. Yes, I read Dave Barry is Not Making This Up. Unfortunately, said book is not actually mine, but I read it anyway. There is one particular column that made me laugh so hard for ten minutes, I had tears pouring down my face. The only thing that can possibly make me laugh that hard is something that has to do with bad music. More specifically, insulting Neil Diamond.
Anyone who does not find Neil Diamond insulting should cease reading now.

Neil Diamond quite possibly might be my least favorite singer of all time. This is not to say that ALL of his music is bad, just most of it. There are a few "oldies but goodies" in the Neil Diamond repertoire, but really, who wants to hear songs about "Cracklin' Rosie" (did they set her on fire??), or "Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show" (maybe I'm dating myself, but what the fuck is a traveling salvation show? is it illegal? was it? has anyone banned it yet? if they haven't, they should. i'm writing my congressman asap.). Anyone who wants to hear these songs should be shot. Or at least hung.
So for viewing enjoyment, I have decided to repeat Dave Barry's column on bad songs. Especially Neil Diamond (Neil Diamond lovers, if you haven't stopped reading this posting yet, you probably should now.).

Mustang Davey
Recently, I was chosen to serve as a musical consultant to the radio industry.
Actually, it wasn't the entire industry; it was a woman named Marcy, who called me up at random one morning while I was picking my teeth with a business card as part of an ongoing effort to produce a column.
"I'm not selling anything," Marcy said.
Of course when callers say this, they usually mean that they ARE selling something, so I was about to say "No thank you" in a polite voice, then bang the receiver down with sufficient force to drive phone shards deep into Marcy's brain, when she said she was doing a survey for the radio industry about what songs should be played on the air.
That got my attention, because radio music is an issue I care deeply about. I do a lot of singing in the car. You should hear Aretha Franklin and me perform "I Say a Little Prayer for You," especially when our voices swoop way up high for the ending part that goes "My darling BELIEVE me, but for me there is nooo WAHHHHH-AAANNNN by you"....My technique is to grip the steering wheel with both hands and life myself halfway out of the seat so that I can give full vocal expression to the emotion that Aretha and I are feeling, which is a mixture of joyous hope and bittersweet longing and the horror of realizing that the driver of the cement truck three feet away is staring at me, at which point I pretend that I am having a coughing seizure while Aretha finishes the song on her own.
I think they should play that song more often on the radio, along with "Brown-Eyed Girl," "Sweet Home Alabama," and of course the Isley Brothers' version of "Twist and Shout," which, if you turn it up loud enough, can propel you beyond mere singing into the stage where you have to get out of the car and dance with tollbooth attendants.
One the other hand, it would not trouble me if the radio totally ceased playing ballad-style songs by Neil Diamond. I realize that many of you are huge Neil Diamond fans, so let me stress that in matters of musical taste, everybody is entitled to an opinion, and yours is wrong. Consider the song "I Am, I Said," wherein Neil, with great emotion, sings:
I am, I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
Not even the chair.
What kind of line is that? Is Neil telling us he's surprised that the chair didn't hear him? Maybe he expected the chair to say "Who, I heard THAT." My guess is that Neil was really desperate to come up with something to rhyme with "there" and he had already rejected "So I ate a pear," "Like Smokey the Bear," and "There were nits in my hair."
So we could do without this song. I also believe that we should use whatever means are necessary - and I do not exclude tactical nuclear weapons - to prevent radio stations from ever playing "Honey," "My Way," "I Write the Songs," "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden," and "Watchin' Scotty Grow." I have holes in my car radio from stabbing the station-changing button when these songs come on. Again, you may disagree with me, but if you know so much, how come the radio industry didn't randomly survey you?
--Dave Barry
From the book Dave Barry is NOT Making This Up.


I haven't included the column in its entirety, but it goes on similar to this manner, but will fewer insults shot in the general direction of Neil Diamond. I don't think I have laughed so hard at a humor column before. Maybe it's my intense hatred for most of Neil Diamond's music, that was even more so intensified last year when my boyfriend decided to download "a really great song" on to my computer. This really great song ended up being "Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show." My boyfriend, unfortunately, has not been heard from since last March.
P.S. Only 20 days until I go back to Ripon! huzzah! too bad it seems like an eternity. and I have a holiday to conquer still. fuck. and when i get back to Ripon, I have to pack up my room, move down the hall, and unpack. Oh well. At least I get to go back early. :)
- posted by L. @ 5:26 PM