O Fortweeta

Fun fact: The very first CD I ever bought--out of all the CDs in the entire canon of recorded music to date--was Carl Orff's "Carmina Burana" by the Philadelphia Orchestra and the Rutgers University Choir under the baton of Eugene Ormandy. I bought it along with Freddy Mercury and Montserrat Caballé's "Barcelona." Because why buy Paul Simon's "The Rhythm of the Saints" or Green Day's "39/Smooth" or even Madonna's "The Immaculate Collection" like all the cool, well-socialized kids in 1990 when you can start your CD collection with obscure music that is totally weird-ass for a 22-year-old to listen to on a 5,000 lb. boom box in your parents' dining room?

In totally unrelated news, why am I still single?

It IS be nice

We’re in the car where it highways jamming to the CD where it harmonies on our way to see the show where it Hamiltons!

Waiting by a Window

The CD player in my car has eaten my Dear Even Hansen CD. No matter what button I push, so matter how sincerely I push it, the CD player insists it doesn't have a CD in it to spit out to me. But there's clearly a CD in the way when I try to slide another (show tune, natch) CD into the slot. I've reached the age where everything except NPR is just hideous, ear-exploding noise to me. So I'm driving everywhere in silence most of the day. With no show tunes to be found.