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While sitting at a long left-turn light today, I was resetting the station buttons on my car radio after discovering that they had been knocked-out when the car was serviced recently.  I decided to let “search” help me do the work of finding my stations, and, after a couple of stops among the many FM listening choices here in the Windy City, the search-button took me to that Bastion of Geriatric Audio-Pablum, the “LiteFM” station here in Chicago … which was playing
(wait for it):  ‘Little Red Corvette’, by Prince.

Um …

I am hard pressed right now to not believe that the Sixth Seal has been broken, that the Apocalypse may well be upon us, and that there will be rivers of blood, a blotted-out sun, and cats mating with dogs in the streets posthaste.

Central to the discussion is the fact that you and I both know full darn well that The Purple One is NOT, repeat NOT, singing about the merits of a certain fine automotive product built by General Motors.  I am TRYING to figure out what brain cramp or outright cerebral aneurysm impaired the common-sense filters of the programming geniuses at 93.9FM.

Mayhaps they are taking their station catch-phrase (“Turn ON the LITE!”) more earnestly than their septuagenarian listener-base (and this (accidental) listener) might have come to expect – but I now have an indelible mental picture of many, many sweet blue-haired ladies passed-out-cold on the floor by their stereos in the milliseconds just after their grandkids blurt out innocently to Grammie just exactly to what Mr. Nelson is alluding.
Selah.

Closing thought:  maybe you want to phone over to SunnyAcres later this afternoon, just to check-in on Paw-Paw and Memaw …

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