Saturday...here in the Ark...

Yeah, that was a Chicago song reference (Just in case it took a hot air balloon over anyone).   I am not a Chicago fan nor do I have that knee jerk reaction to changing the radio station when they come on, Note One, as I do with Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin or Pink.  I recognize the first two bands as legendary!  Groundbreaking!  Barrier busting!  Pink Floyd I could have always lived without....I am a pure hater since day one of their expression assaulting my ears.  Everything they do feels like it's encased in some sort of membrane type ooze.  I am certain that I can thank them from some variant band later on though. 

 Led Zeppelin, I've simply heard enough of. I remember pulling their LPs out of my mother's trunk of albums back in 1985 and realizing how awesome they were....and thinking how awesome it was that my mom listened to them.  Or rather, I'd hoped she earned those generation gap closing points on her own and that someone didn't instead just leave them behind for her to inherit.  

Pink.  I don't think I have anything I can say to validate my GET IT OUT OF MY EARSPACE ways.  There was one tough girl for me....and only one.  Joan Jett.  Pink, you're too late for me.  I would marry Joan Jett if she asked me to.  I don't dig the name, the hair, and can't figure out what exactly she is trying to be.  She's like decaf Jett.  

Now I had this conversation last night with a friend about how some authors say that they didn't know what they were going to write....it just fell out of them from everywhere basically, pulled out their alphabetical GPS's and led the way to a story ending.  I think about that from time to time and realize that I fully never meant to write any of this this morning.  Not where I was going at all!  

Damn you Chicago!