Monday, December 6, 2010

Modern boom box music ain't the food of love

"What did you say? " I can't hear Myrtle with the noise going by in the car and I asks what's all that, and someone says it's a boom car, and I wonder if it bothers these old ears, what is it doin' to that poor child inside.
Shakespeare - the bard that says "if music be the food of love, play on--"

"Boom cars?"  I asks Myrtle.  She tells me that's right.  They're in her neighborhood too. But she says when you listen real close, those words aren't real nice anyway.

In Cloutierville, we don't have that nonsense cause that car that drove by was from Alexandria, one of those big cities where folks do most anything.  But Granny here wonders why people like music that ain't and noise that just hurts their ears.

"That's the way things is goin." says Myrtle, and she has to repeat it again, cause that car drove by with that noise just thumpin' so I couldn't hear what she had to say.

When I gets off the phone, I turns to my Elmer and cuddles him close and whispers real soft, cause he hears every word that I say, just like he hears them on our radio too.  "That feller Shakespeare that said music was the food of love, would sure shake his head if he heard what was happenin' today.  And maybe if folks knew that music makes love like it does, they wouldn't be so angry with each other all the time tryin' to get the noise turned down so they could talk."

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