Micropayments, Microponders, Microgasms

So, I had another 72-hour microcrush on John Waite - I suppose this is going to happen everytime I go to one of his concerts? I mean, at the show, all I could think was, "wow, I wish Mike were here to hear this!", and after the show it's all "Mike, what do you intend to do to make me forget how John Waite's arm feels against one's back?"

(Mike, of course, is up to the challenge, despite his continuing presence ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PLANET. I type in caps so we can all take a moment to secretly understand that probably any man's arm on my back would feel pretty good right now, and Mike has nothing to worry about. And neither does John Waite - I'm only in it for the awesome music, I swear!)

I'm feeling better now. I've stopped hanging around the English Teacher's Lounge, trying to find inventive and not-terribly-obvious ways to segue from discussing core curriculum and proficiency testing to mentioning how effing compelling "Forget Me Not" by Bad English is.

Speaking of which! During the post-show afterglow, I went nuts trying to download more Babys/JW/BE stuff. This is harder than you think. It's also hard to find some of it on Amazon for a normal price. What's up with that? I want to buy the Ignition/No Brakes combo-disc, for example, but I'm not sure I want two albums on the same CD. What does that tell me about the sound quality? Anything?

So, yes, I downloaded what I could. And I don't mean via the methods endorsed by the recording industry. I'm sorry, John. I want to give you money. It made me wonder what would happen if celebrities put tip jars on their websites, like so many bloggers et al do. Yes, I know iTunes and such exist to finally create a system of paying small, reasonable fees to download music and make sure all parties are compensated. But, you know, I'd still rather send it directly to the artist. I know the production of a song is seldom one man's (or one woman's) work, but... (The ellipses means I either have no argument or my argument is too obvious to go any further - not sure which.) And those places don't have all the songs, either.

I guess I'll just buy some of them twice to take up the slack.

Back to whatever I was saying. Oh yes. So, I downloaded this BE "Forget Me Not" song, and then I did the one thing that I always tell people not to do, for it is the one thing that turns downloading into an illegal activity - I shared it.

Not with the world! That would be unlawful and morally twisted and so forth. No, I only shared it with Mike. It's not even a mix tape; it's just one song, so that's cool, right? (Well, it was about six or seven songs. It was like half of a side of a mix tape - 120 minutes, of course.)

And Mike, Mike who has learned the ways of JW at my feet, says, Oh, Yeah, I Know This Song.


And once again I reveal myself to me a bright shining Beacon of Ignorance. Did you know that Bad English had more than one hit? Considering I turned off top 40 radio sometime around 1985, I felt pretty smug just for knowing "When I See You Smile." I guess I need to get off my high plastic pony and go sit with all those people who think JW is the one-hit wonder behind "Missing You." I am so ashamed. I don't deserve the pleasures of John Waite's hand on my back. Or Mike's, for that matter.

(This is why people get married. So you get it in writing that your man will keep his hand on your back even when you underestimate his musical experience and presumptiously upload Bad English hits to him while marveling over how darn catchy this "unknown" stuff is.)

(And since we're not married, I guess I better watch my step and do something nice for my poor bf who puts up with this fawning nonsense. I had a really trashy comment here, but I had to zap it. It involved pondering the pairing of certain JW songs with a seven-letter word for an activity that would guarantee my grandparents never speak to me again. You know, Nonna and Poppy, you probably shouldn't even read this site. Send Aunt Donna to pre-screen for Mature Audience content first. My hormones have to go somewhere, and I can't seem to maim two birds with one post and channel those hormones into something productive like evil grad studies.)

(Is anybody actually still reading? It's too late and I don't have enough birthday pudding left. By the way, I'm 36 now. Fat and old! Yay me!)

Have you ever heard the theme from Gilligan's Island set to "Stairway to Heaven"? It's kind of earwormy. (Sorry, the playlist moved on from John Waite several parenthetical comments ago.)

I've completely forgotten my point. If you're here via Google search for JW, reread my concert review here or on Wouter's (excellent JW blog) mirror if you want the alluring cosmopolitan feel of visiting a Dutch site. (I guess it's like buying your Birks in Germany instead of in the strip mall by Trader Joe's.)

If you're here because you figure I'll eventually give in and reveal the seven-letter word on a website that some day either my students or their parents will find and hold up as proof that I'm an unfit educator, you're mad. I would never spell out ******* on my website, not even to suggest that Waite's "Mr. Wonderful" might have an interesting accompanying tempo for it.


(I'm totally deleting this post when I get some sleep. I think I'm coming down with something. Bloody kids with their airborne particles - the one thing they do turn in.)

(Mike just rang from on his way to the Perth Royal Show. He says "Head First" is a better choice. Just like a man to be so obvious about these things.)

(I know nobody's still reading, but I'll say good night anyway.)

28 September 2005 |






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Carnival Splendor (2009)
Carnival Spirit (2010)
Carnival Spirit (2011)
Carnival Splendor (2011)
Norwegian Pearl to Alaska (2012)