Here comes a bikini whale!

We were at the beach
Everybody had matching towels
Somebody went under a dock
And there they saw a rock
It wasn't a rock
It was a rock lobster!
Rock Lobster - The B52's

I freaking love the B-52's. They are the music of my soul, the kind of music I try to write and perform myself. Upbeat, off the wall, designed to get you off your ass and on your feet - or, as in the case of their classic "Rock Lobster", wriggling on the floor of your highschool gym. Class of 86, you know what I'm talkin' about!

I can appreciate the lyrical brilliance and cultural impact of contemplative folk singers. I can admire their talent, nod my head in agreement or shake it in defiance. And without fail, I can leave it sitting in its shrinkwrap at Borders Books and Music. My life has been angst and drama-ridden enough courtesy of my own questionable decision making. My cup runnith over, I need not for my ipod to do so as well.

I mention this because, as we speak, I'm supposed to be penning a driving, anthemic rock song for a friend's band. It's supposed to be intense, angry, filled with outrage at the state of the world. And dammit, I am trying. I really am. God knows I'm as pissed as anyone at the debacle that is our current financial crisis. And yet, I can't translate it into a simple four chord blues progression. I had one line on paper... "The American Dream - I tried to grab it". At that point my bunny Alfie hopped by, and the next line instantly became "all I got was a handful of rabbit"! I can hear Fred Schneider delivering that line. Not an angry folk rocker. ("It wasn't a rock! It was a rock rabbit!")

Screw it. I'm gonna fire up some Donna Summer, jump in the shower, and gyrate to "I Feel Love" while I loofa various body parts. And now that I've given you a visual to haunt your day, I'm outta here...