The Desert of Classic Rock

When I drive home from work on the way to picking up the little ones from daycare, most of the time I drive in silence, detoxing from ten hours of ceaseless crosstalk and random yelling all about me. Sometimes I listen to Talk Radio, but I’m on a post-election news fast. Occasionally I listen to an audio CD in the car. Once in a blue moon I pop in a Sibelius or Dvorak or Tchaikovksy or Beethoven disk.

It’s almost as rare as a solar eclipse that I’ll listen to the local classic rock radio station.

Two-and-a-half weeks ago, in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, driving home amidst the fallen trees, wires, and cordoned-off side streets, I listened to four or five classic rock songs. All well and good.

Tonight on a whim I dialed in the same station for the first time since. And wouldn’t you know it – the very first song I hear is one of those four or five I heard fifteen days ago!

I mean, c’mon! What are the odds? Do classic rock station programmers think there are only a dozen classic rock tunes?

A big pet peeve I had in the Eighties that drove me to listen to more obscure metal, certain punk, and more than a handful of grunge bands. When a DJ said that Black Sabbath was coming up, you knew they’d be playing “Paranoid.” When they said AC/DC was on deck, you knew it’d be “You Shook Me All Night Long.” Rush? “Tom Sawyer.” How many times can you listen to the same two or three dozen songs over and over and over again, should you be a loyal listener to the local classic rock radio station.

[For the record, the song I heard twice in the span of six songs was “American Girl” by Tom Petty.]

Okay. Cranky Old Guy signing off.